


Restore

by IdrewAcow



Series: The Reason [3]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Adult Life, Dating, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Normal Life, One-Sided Attraction, Reunions, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 23:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrewAcow/pseuds/IdrewAcow
Summary: Three years have gone by, and now, Luka can finally work on getting everything back to the way it was before. But now that she's met Miku, is that possible? Warning: both Ruin and Remedy must be read before this!





	1. Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the last part! This finishes the last multi-chapter story I'm crossposting, for now. Like with the previous two parts, re-reading was pretty brief so if you have feedback of any kind, I'd be happy to hear it!

At first, Luka was scared. But after the administration had kicked in, all she had to do was follow orders and answer questions. She did not need to think, not even in the most complicated situation, for she was continuously completely honest. There were no stories to invent or reasons to fabricate. Nothing to hide, or deny. After being told of all of the charges held against her, she plead guilty. There was everything she had expected: kidnapping, harassment, breaking and entering, assault, conspiracy, trespassing, attempted manslaughter. Some had specific degrees or a certain number of counts, but Luka couldn't keep track of it all. Sometimes, she would wonder if all of these charges were pulled from what they had gleaned from the letters, or if they had already spoken to Miku and her parents. Either way, it was all there, and as far as she was concerned, it was all correct.

Guilty.

There was more to know, and Luka learned that it was in her right to have a speedy trial, and it was also her right to waive it. She refused to that last one: get it over with, she thought. She wasn't going to stretch her freedom. Despite that, it all took longer than she had hoped. She spent many empty days simply waiting. Her parents visited. They didn't talk much. They promised to be there for her, but Luka suspected that they wouldn't stay on her team for very long. Her father found her a good lawyer who promised to get her out as free as a bird. Luka wasn't after that, however. Just tell them how it is. If they try to make it worse than the truth, stop them. But stop them if they're making it better, too. Make it fair. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She wasn't sure he got it, but at least he agreed.

When the trial did start, she was surprised that it wasn't Miku's parents sitting right there, hoping to get her in prison. And because of that, she never really bothered to remember who exactly it was. A prosecutor, she was told.

It was all far too complicated for her to follow. All she wanted was to get what she deserved.

It didn't help that there was so much to see, to hear, and so many people. An abhorrent amount of witnesses came forward, half of which had next to nothing to say. Some neighbors of the Hatsune family had overheard some moments when Luka had caused chaos in the household. Some people claimed they had seen Luka a few times on the street. But that was hardly interesting.

A few objects were brought forward. The letter paper was there, being compared. Her handwriting was put on display, too. The knife she'd used to pry open the little door to the hollow, the photos she's taken of the house. Luka was happy: everything was moving forward, guaranteeing that she was to be put behind bars for a long, long time. Everybody agreed on what she had done, and there was never any doubt. Her story matched the evidence.

Luka briefly wondered why they held the entire circus act, if she had plead guilty to begin with. Even her friends and family, who had once rooted for her, were faced with the naked truth: Luka was guilty. She did it all. She was a stalker, a ghost. An attempted murderer.

But a single question seemed to confuse everyone: why? Some were confused as to why she took on the job, others wondered why she kidnapped the girl instead of killing her as instructed. Every order was followed down to a T, right up until that point. Everybody argued and went in circles in order to find the answer, and asking her for her opinion wasn't enough. Was she a sadist? Was she money-hungry? Was she simply scared?

Nobody could agree, and Luka didn't care. What did the motive matter, she thought, if the crime was there? But they spent hours poring over the chronology: was Luka threatened before, or after, she agreed to do the job? Luka couldn't remember, the letters didn't help. They simply kept arguing.

But then Miku had something to say.

* * *

Luka wasn't sure if she was excited or not. The years of the prison routine were void of exciting surprises, and yet, now that finally, something was happening, she couldn't conjure a proper response.

Parole.

She had been a bit surprised, at first, when they had approached her, telling her that she was eligible for a parole hearing, and even more so when they had announced that it had gone well, meaning she could walk out relatively free after only three years.

"Do you understand the conditions?"

"Yes."

Prison wasn't exactly hell, or boring, nor was it a particularly great place to be. She was fed, clothed, had a place to sleep. At first, she had spoken to the on-site therapist, who had helped her bind off the loose ends that had floated around. The feeling of 'deserving' prison became less harsh, and she was less bitter about the relatively lenient sentence she had been given. And less bitter in general. Plus, all leftover guilt, fear, and paranoia were effectively squashed. Other than that, the company was fair: she hadn't been put with the dangerous types, but not everyone understood that she wasn't much for conversation. She spent most of her time in the vast library, brushing up her history. Sometimes, she liked to spend time in the workshop, carving and cutting and painting. She wasn't much of an artist, but it was good to get her mind out of the daily grind. Often, she helped out in the kitchen, making sure her skills wouldn't deteriorate.

All in all, it had been monotonous.

Her day clothes were returned to her. She got changed, was led to the door. She wondered if she would have to let her parents know that she was free, or if they'd already been notified. She wondered what had become of her studio: had it been taken care of? Had it and all of its contents been sold? Before she could ask, she was told that someone was there to pick her up and that all other arrangements had been made. She wondered who it could be: after she had asked that nobody come visit her, almost nobody had insisted. She didn't even want to receive letters, but couldn't help but wonder if anybody would understand. She was afraid that she'd accidentally cut everybody out of her life, so hearing that someone was actually there to pick her up was something she hadn't expected. She was almost scared of who she might find. Her parents, there to bring her home, only to find out that she couldn't leave the city? Or— No. She didn't want to think about it too much.

She simply stepped outside and hoped for the best.

The prison parking lot was partly empty. The weather was nice. Luka looked around, wondering who she was searching for. Would her parents really cross the country to retrieve her? Did any of her friends still remember her? Nervously, she walked through the lot, quickly coming to the decision that if she were to wait more than twenty minutes, she would walk home. Suddenly, a car honked, and Luka turned to see a silver, old car she vaguely recognized. Behind the wheel sat Lily, who was waving at her.

Luka gulped. Lily, her oldest friend. A friend who had hadn't seen in over three years. What did she think of her?

Slowly, she got in the passenger seat. Lily was wearing sunglasses and light clothes: perfect for the late spring; Luka felt overdressed with her dark jeans and long-sleeved shirt, which only multiplied how uncomfortable she felt. She resisted the urge to squirm.

She hadn't seen her friend in three years. Three years. She wondered what she would say to her. How she would explain herself. Timidly, she shut the door behind her, ready to face the silence of the drive.

But Lily wouldn't have that. The moment the door closed, she took off her glasses and smiled at her old friend.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," Luka replied. "So. It's been a while."

Lily chuckled, putting on her glasses and turning the key. The car roared to life. "Three years, Luka. You look great."

"So do you."

"I know, I know."

They drove off. Luka sighed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, during which the pinkette dared cast a few short, uncertain gazes in the blonde's direction. When the car stopped at a red light, she stated, "You're not mad at me."

"Oh hell no. Most everybody else is though. Thought I'd let you know."

"Everybody?"

"My parents, your parents, your other friends. All they heard was 'twelve years of prison', and that was enough to brand you as a criminal."

The light turned green. Luka sighed again. "Well, they're technically correct."

"Yeah, sure, technically. But you're bigger than that."

For the first time in months, Luka smiled.

* * *

Instead of going straight home, Lily took her best friend out for lunch to celebrate her freedom. It was a welcome change of pace for the pinkette. Seeing the people come and go, sitting on a terrace in the sun with her best friend, she finally felt like she could connect with someone again. Lily met her halfway and immediately started catching her up on the general situation.

While Luka was away, Lily had moved into her place and lived there in her stead, which answered the pinkette's question about her home's fate. Lily had done so partly because, otherwise, somebody else would have done something else, and partly to get away from the fight back home. It wasn't all that bad, Lily promised her: the Megurine family was simply simmering in sour disappointment, and didn't know exactly how to handle the situation. The Masuda tribe, on the other hand, had started talking poorly of the pinkette, and as her best friend, Lily couldn't and didn't stand for it. A short spat later and the blonde was well settled in Luka's studio. Quickly, she had found employment and paid the rent. Much like Luka had isolated herself in prison, Lily isolated herself as well. She still spoke to her parents and to Luka's family, but they tended to avoid the topic of the imprisoned friend.

"I think your folks will hear you out. In what, two years, you'll probably be welcomed by everyone at the Christmas dinner."

"I won't be able to be there for the next five years."

"Huh?"

Then it was Luka's turn to share, though not about how it had been, but how it was going to be. Being on parole had a lot of strict rules and the more the pinkette spoke, the more bewildered Lily looked. A parole officer, who she had to meet on a regular basis, was the biggest rule, right alongside the fact that the officer could visit her at any time, to make sure she wasn't breaking any of her other promises. No excess alcohol, no drugs. Finding a job. But the most difficult for Lily to understand was that Luka couldn't leave the city for the following five years.

"No travel, at all? And you've got regular dates with a dude who's supposed to know pretty much everything about your personal life?"

"And I need to find a job."

"And if you don't follow any of the rules, it's back to jail for you."

"That's the story."

"So, you're practically still in prison."

"Yes, but if I'm working, at least I'm participating in society."

"Geez."

By then, the food had arrived, and Luka hungrily dug in. Prison food wasn't bad, especially when the others put in their effort for a meal. There was something about professionally-prepared pasta, though, something she didn't even realize she'd craved in all those years. Plus, the company was a precious element: she had missed hanging out with Lily, she had missed their easy friendship. But before she could even get halfway through her plate, she was already beginning to fear Lily's inevitable departure, the return of her solitude. Almost as if she sensed it, Lily easily confessed, in a way that only old friends who could no longer anger one another could do, that she wasn't quite ready to move out of Luka's apartment.

"I'll be honest: the date of your release kind of snuck up on me, so I didn't put in my two weeks' notice, and they need me. Not enough potential waitresses floating around to replace me within a day. I mean hey, the job is yours' if you want, but according to the contract I got to stick around a little bit longer."

"It's no issue," assured Luka.

"Just in case it might have been," Lily teased, knowing fully well that both knew that it would never have been a problem, "I did get a cheap rollaway bed I can crash on. Also, I plan on using my free time to go job and apartment hunting: now that I've tasted freedom from living with my parents, I don't plan on going back just quite yet."

Secretly, Luka was relieved: the thought of living in her studio all on her own wasn't a pleasant one. The mere mental image of getting up, alone, and coming home to an empty space made her sick to the stomach. She didn't say anything though, and the sickness wasn't enough to completely kill her appetite. They finished their plates, returning to conversation.

"By the way," Lily started, a bit hesitant. "You know how I said that 'most' everybody hates you?"

"Yeah?"

"Truth is, apart from our families, those who cared to read the headlines kind of hated you. Those who bothered to actually find out what went on actually admire you."

Luka was gobsmacked. "What?"

Lily giggled timidly. "You didn't pay much attention to what happened out here after your arrest, right?"

"Right."

"So you didn't see the gorgeous consequences of totally dismantling the underground crime scene. Crimes here have been at an all-time low. You've wiped it all away."

Luka remembered with a start what exactly her friend was talking about.

"I can't take credit for that," she said, hiding her discomfort with a quick sip of water.

"Of course you can!" Lily exclaimed. "You stood up to them! Without you, they would still rule the streets! What you did was amazing!"

A looming sense of horror grew inside the pinkette. "The employee who turned in the evidence is the hero of that story," she spoke, slowly. "I'm not."

Lily noticed she didn't like the topic but pushed anyway. "But you—"

"I'm not," repeated the pinkette. "Please. We'll talk about it if you want, but understand that I had no hand in their defeat."

"So what did you do?"

"I’ll tell you at home."

"Alright."

Luka was sorely disappointed. Of course, she was glad to be outside, to be with her friend again, but the thought that the only reason why her friend was so accepting of her, was because of such a terrible disillusion, was heartbreaking. Sooner, rather than later, she'd have to make it clear to Lily what her exact role was in the entire affair. She didn't look forward to it, though. There was the possibility that her friend wouldn't receive the news well, a possibility she hated to imagine.

After lunch, Lily drove her home, unlocked her own door for her, then showed her that everything was still in its place. In fact, the blonde had cleaned up considerably: the fridge, while stocked, was clean; all of the pinkette's clothes had been returned to the closet; the floor and carpet had been vacuumed; all the metal, sinks, handles, had been polished. She stared at 'her' room, at a space she hadn't seen in three years but somehow, it still felt like home. Lily's stuff was already put in various bags she promised she could live out of with no problem, and the rollaway propped in the same location Luka had put her makeshift pillow-bed, back in the day.

"I promise I'll be the perfect roommate!" cheered Lily, worries over lunch forgotten. "My job makes me come home late sometimes, but I'll be quiet."

Luka laughed, "It's fine. You're welcome to stay."

In a question of minutes, both made themselves at home. It did take Luka a little while longer to get used to her room again, though, even without the recent concerns cluttering her mind. She didn't recognize the pair of shoes that sat next to hers', by the door. The brush in the bathroom had a different color hair caught in the teeth. The books in the bookcase, while dust-free, didn't look like they had been opened at all. It was something between unsettling, refreshing and saddening: something Luka didn't want to feel and didn't want to think about. She easily pretended nothing was wrong, accepting how things were going to be from that point on, at least at surface-level.

"So, a job. Any ideas what you're going for?" asked Lily, stretching on the couch.

"Not sure. Anything, really. I can't afford to be picky, right now."

"I can ask my manager, since I'm going out and you're moving in. How about that, being a waitress right next door?"

"I'd appreciate it if you asked."

Unfortunately, the pancake place had already found someone to replace Lily (much to the blonde's anger: 'No potential waitresses floating around, my ass'), so Luka was forced to go hunting. Over the course of the following two days, she carefully put together a CV, numerous letters of all kinds, along with checking and double checking that she had all the paperwork. She expected that finding a job would be a challenge, and she was right. After all, who would employ her? She knew that some prisoners received assistance when it came to this subject or were given contacts or information about companies who would more readily hire them. But she was left in the dark.

She didn't know where to aim. No point in attempting a glorious return: after all, she had been all for replacing Lily. But honestly, she desperately hoped to avoid becoming a cashier. She sent her CV to the local library, a quiet place where she would probably be recognized, but left alone. She did the same to the city's public transportation company, remembering the lie she'd told her parents about working there. Both CVs were accompanied by all the necessary documents. To be sure, she did apply online for the local fast food joints. Maybe she could stock things in the back or something. She wasn't sure how it all worked. One thing was clear, though: she didn't want to face people, especially with what Lily had taught her. Either people hated her, either they admired her, or they had forgotten her. Luka hated the idea of coming across either of the first two. Being spat in the face and being praised for something she hadn't done were both things that made her stomach churn. She refused to look up the full extent of her fame and her infamy online, though. She feared what she would find.

Unfortunately, regardless of her notoriety, she still couldn't afford to be picky.

While she toiled about getting a job, Lily worked at hers. Her friend was out for every lunch and dinner rush, usually 'til well past midnight. She slept on the rollaway and would keep sleeping well into the morning. Her late-rising reminded Luka of her previous roommate, but that was about as far as the similarities went: Lily was unendingly energetic, optimistic and emotional. Just like Luka, she showered in the morning, and unlike her, she didn't like cooking much. Of course, the pinkette appreciated the company all the same: her isolation in prison was necessary, she felt, but she hadn't wanted it to go on for much longer. Getting out of prison so soon was probably a boon, really. Going out for lunch with her friend, simply speaking with a cashier, it all felt nice. If she hadn't made parole, she wondered how much longer she would have denied mail and contact. Not for very long, she thought.

The third day, Luka had to visit her parole officer, Kaito, and she felt surprisingly nervous about it. That morning, while she brushed her teeth and Lily dried her hair, she admitted that she wasn't looking forward to meeting the man who would watch her like a hawk for the following years.

"Oh, it's fine, Luka. It's his job. He probably works with nutcases all the time. In fact, he might be happy about meeting someone like you for once!"

She laughed but remained unconvinced. Less than an hour later, she walked up to the police station. She entered the building and was met by the sight of a distraught family filling out a form, which was, understandably, ideal for setting the mood. She suppressed a shiver then introduced herself to the man sitting behind the desk.

"I'm here to see Kaito Shion," she said, still nervous.

"Of course. Just head through that door, then the first door on your right."

"Thanks."

Kaito was already there, looking at a few documents of his own. When she entered, he looked up, smiled, and shook her hand. "A pleasure to meet you," he greeted, his voice calm.

"Likewise."

They sat down. He asked a few questions. She thought it was kind of silly. It would be so easy to lie to his face about everything. But she didn't. She had no reason to.

"You are aware that I can visit you at your home, unannounced?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Wonderful." He scribbled some notes in a booklet. "And how is the job hunt going?"

She listed the companies she sent her CV to. He nodded, and recommended she contact the temp agency, should all of them reply negatively, if at all.

"They know who will be willing to hire you, part- or full-time. Maybe you could try a few different things out at first, but you will need to get something stable as soon as possible. No worries, though, no real pressure quite yet. As long as you try, you're ok. I'll let you know when you can start to get concerned," he teased.

She nodded, allowing herself to relax.

"Anything you think I should know?"

"Well, my friend Lily is staying with me for a while."

"Alright, for how long?"

"Just under two weeks."

"Very well."

He reviewed his notes one last time before looking up at her with a smile. "That's about it. I hope I haven't been too scary, this first meeting; we'll be seeing each other quite frequently for the next few years."

"How long will this go on, exactly?"

"Usually, parole would go on to the end of the prison sentence. But because of the details of your case, your general character, and with how well the hearing went, we're looking at five years, right now. It would be a bit ironic for us to follow you like this for ten full years, don't you think?"

Luka couldn't laugh.

"Well," he held out his hand with a kind smile. "See you Tuesday, Luka. Same time, same place."

She thanked him and left. That was quick. Then, she walked around for hours; Lily was already at work by then, and there was nothing else to do or see. Part of her wanted to test the waters, see how the streets had changed. Maybe she could see the consequences of the lack of an underground crime scene. There wasn't anything obvious, though, much to her disappointment. In the end, the walk was uneventful, the only highlight being a street that had been renovated. When she did get home, just in time to start cooking dinner, she uploaded her CV to the local temp agency. After that, she went to bed, knowing that Lily would be there around midnight, and would be there when she would wake up early the next morning.

That day, Sunday, Lily had no work, and both women spent the afternoon catching up. Luka had anticipated the day off and hoped to take the occasion to explain to her friend, clearly, what she really did. She couldn't help but hesitate somewhat, unsure of how she'd react, enjoying how they got along too much to sacrifice it so easily. The blonde had numerous stories to tell about her trip abroad which filled the time easily, to which Luka replied with a few interesting anecdotes about prison. One cellmate, in particular, was an endless source of entertainment, who played ceaselessly with cards. She made them spin and fly and fan out effortlessly, but fortunately, she had a much shorter sentence than Luka's.

The pinkette was happy to tell and hear of various stories, but didn't expect Lily to ask about her previous job.

"What was it like, living in that house with them?"

It was the perfect opening to explain the situation. Maybe the blonde had sensed she'd wanted to talk about it, too. She was her best friend, after all. Once again, Lily had asked the question effortlessly. Luka still squirmed somewhat, hoping if she could balance being honest, realistic and friendly.

"At first, terrifying. Then it was a thrill. And then…" Luka's voice caught in her throat. She remembered the wine cellar, the birthday parties, the crying. So much crying. "And then it just killed me."

She opened up about the consequences of her job: endless cash, no time to eat or sleep, no room for emotion. The heart of steel and the soul-destroying perseverance. How she was put on a special diet in prison in order for her to regain a regular body weight, how she had to tie off many, many fears with the on-site therapist.

"But you're ok, now, right?" asked Lily with concern.

"Sure. I'm fine. Worst I still get nowadays are the occasional nightmares, but I don't think those will ever stop."

"What did you dream about?"

Luka looked away. "You know what made me bring her home?"

"Well, you were told to kill her."

"I tried, Lily. I tried to kill her."

At those words, Lily sat up straight. "No way."

The pinkette could only nod. Lily thought about it for a long time.

"Damn, Luka. I didn't know that. What actually happened?"

Luka recounted the blurry memories of that night, how she had tried to use a pillow, how she had all but collapsed. She couldn't put the sight of Miku's empty eyes to words, so she skipped over that entirely. After that, there was her awakening, her change of heart.

"I could finally fix it," Luka explained. "Somehow, I got her to follow me. The rest is history."

"Holy shit."

Luka couldn't stop herself after that. She dove straight into how she wasn't, at all, responsible for her employer's downfall. She'd waited, nothing more, nothing less, paralyzed by paranoia, announcing her presence only when the beast had been killed. She had no part in that. She'd followed orders, blindly, only ever daring to lift a finger in protestation, as long as that finger couldn't be seen.

Lily remained quiet for a few moments, so Luka went to get something to drink. When she returned, Lily said, somewhat subdued "Don't worry. I'm not going to judge you for what you did in that situation. Your whole state of mind must have been fucked up."

"It was."

"I'm just glad you were strong enough to do the right thing, no matter what."

Luka nodded, but couldn't find much to say. She could sense that Lily wasn't exactly fond of what she'd learned. Was it disappointment? Or was the news still sinking in?

"You didn't have to be the hero," Lily stated suddenly, her voice surprisingly strong. "You don't have to be the greatest person this city has ever seen. You saved us. And you saved her. I'm glad you managed to find the strength to do the right thing when you had to."

"As am I. If I hadn’t—"

"If you hadn't, everybody we know and love would have been dead. I never forgot that, Luka. When everybody tried to forget that you did what you did because their lives were on the line, I forced myself to remember. So thanks, I suppose. For kidnapping her."

Luka chuckled. "Yeah, you're welcome."

Lily didn't continue, so the pinkette gave her to time to digest. She checked her emails and job possibilities while Lily thought. Finally, the blonde asked, "Any news of her, by the way?"

Luka didn't have to ask who she was talking about. "No. None at all."

"Does she even know that you're out?"

"I guess she has to."

"Would you want to catch up with her?" Luka hesitated, and Lily noticed. "Eesh, no good friendship there?"

"No, we're friends," Luka assured, remembering her promise. "It's just that during the trial, euh, something happened."

"Do tell," urged the blonde with a grin, but Luka frowned.

"You weren't there?" she asked.

"I couldn't be there. I only heard what the news told us. What, don't tell me you're holding that against me."

"No, I'm not. But I don't want to talk about it. If you can figure out what happened from recordings or transcripts, then fine. It's not something I'm going to share, though."

"What, why not?"

"It's not my secret to share."

Lily didn't push any further. That evening, sick of job hunting, Luka picked up an old book she had already read, once long ago. Rather, she decided to read it properly: there were quite a few novels she had used to distract herself while she was holed up in the wall of the Hatsune residence, but she hadn't truly read them. She couldn't remember the characters, the plots. Why not read them again? Besides, she didn't have much else to do, really. She'd explored, no, combed through the job market, signed up for dozens of positions online, etc. Her next step, if none of that worked, would be to go from store to store and hand in her CV and other documents by hand. In the meantime, she waited, reading a book for the 'first' time, Lily keeping quiet company. The blonde preferred to spend time on her phone instead of reading, but Luka hardly minded.

She was happy that Lily had taken the news of her not-so-glorious past so well. In the end, she had remembered what had mattered, and that made her indescribably happy. That somebody, anybody, acknowledged the reason behind her tortured efforts was a true and deep relief. Of course, maybe they had been acknowledged during the trial, making for the short total of years she was to serve, but having somebody she'd struggled to keep alive thank her was actually tangible.

Thanks to that, she could truly relax in her home. She could ignore all of the little details that reminded her of something different, of someone different, and truly reconnect with her old friend. She could finally look towards the future.

The following day, just as she wondered what other jobs she could apply for online, someone did call, and Luka didn't know who to expect. She picked up the phone and introduced herself while Lily eyed her from the bathroom. Luka shrugged at her questioning gaze, hoping to concentrate properly on the person on the other end of the line.

The answer wasn't one she had expected: it was Meiko Sakine, from the Public Transportation company. They had reviewed her application and CV, and were inviting her over for an interview.

"We will be able to see you tomorrow, or Wednesday. Both at 9:30."

"I can't make it tomorrow; I have to meet my parole officer," she admitted.

"Ah, I see. Wednesday it is, then."

"Yeah."

"We'll see you then, Miss Megurine. Have a nice day."

"You, too."

Meiko hung up first. Luka was a bit stunned.

"And?" asked Lily.

"Public Transport," the pinkette answered.

Lily laughed, "I can't believe it. An interview?"

"Yeah."

"Looks like your long-lasting lie is going to become a reality!" joked the blonde.

Luka could barely chuckle. "I suppose it is."

In truth, she was a bit stunned. She didn't expect them to be so unfazed by her criminal history: revealing that she had a meeting with her parole officer had been disclosed almost entirely by accident. Maybe they were used to employing people like her? Maybe they needed someone to sort out the thousands of fines they wrote. Maybe they needed someone to mop the floors. She didn't think they'd send her out to check the tickets. Not someone like her.

Though, she had boasted about the intimate knowledge of the city streets. Maybe that skill would be of use? Who knew. Lily had faith in her, as always, and told her that she'd rock.

The next day, as she had told Meiko, she saw Kaito again. He asked the same questions, and she updated him on the job situation. He was happy that she had followed his recommendation, and that it was progressing so quickly.

"If you do get hired, I'll need your employer's contacts, as well as your working hours. It's out of the question that you get time off from work in order to see me: getting re-integrated into society takes priority."

The sentence made Luka a little bit giddy. It was completely unexpected. After a second's hesitation, she mumbled, "Of course," while mentally repeating the words Kaito had just spoken.

"Well, that's it, again," he said with a smile. "So, good luck with you interview, Miss Megurine. And if you need to schedule something on the day and hour we're supposed to meet again, just give me a call and we'll re-schedule."

Luka nodded, said goodbye, and left.

Re-integration into society? The phrase stuck to her, as if it was finally dawning on her that not only did she have a future, she was finally going back to a normal life. Normal, as in jobs, relationships, friends. Working, hanging out, getting drunk (though, admittedly, not within the following five years) and being happy. Four years of abnormality and suddenly she was sinking back into the tub of 'normal life'.

She felt like she could fly. Even if the interview would go poorly, she had people at her back who would help, and that only made her even happier. Things were going well, she told herself. Things were actually going well and she had no reason to be afraid, she had nobody to protect, she had nothing to hide. She had friends, support.

So it was no surprise to her that she was totally relaxed for the interview. Lily's super-energetic pep-speech definitely helped, too. She was positively beaming. The huge building didn't scare her. The grumpy receptionist couldn't faze her. She managed to find the room with relative ease, she was perfectly on time, and she felt like she was on top of the world.

"Miss Megurine?" asked a tall brunette. "I'm Meiko Sakine."

"How do you do," greeted the pinkette, shaking the woman's hand with a confident smile.

She smiled in return, and lead the ex-convict to the room where the interview would take place. Even though she hadn't ever had a real job interview before, Luka wasn't nervous or scared. She remembered her encounter with the big boss in person and felt stronger still. Halfway through the interview, a man whose name she'd already forgotten asked, with words of his own, if her history, or her conditions of parole, would be a bother.

"Not at all. None of the conditions I need to follow will prevent me from doing this job. I simply can't leave the city."

Meiko smiled, and said that it wouldn't be a problem.

They didn't ask any silly questions, and before the pinkette knew it, the interview was over. She shook everyone's hand and left, feeling as if she had sprouted wings.

Everything was normal. She was finally going back to normal.

And she loved it.

Lily congratulated her on the interview well done. That evening, Lily came home early with free pancakes for a 'celebration dinner'. They splurged on the syrup, jam and Lily's favorite: dulce de leche. The slept in, waking up only when the phone rang.

It was Meiko.

"Congratulations, you're hired."

Luka, still half-asleep, could only mumble, "Why?"

She brunette laughed. "Because you're the best person who applied for the job. How about you come by tomorrow afternoon? I'll show you what you'll need to know, the equipment you need, all that jazz."

"Alright."

"Perfect. How's two?"

"That works."

"See you tomorrow, then! Goodbye."

Meiko hung up first again, leaving Luka completely stunned.

"Who was that?" groaned Lily from the rollaway.

"My new boss."

Lily cheered and barely an hour later, for a late breakfast shortly before noon, they went out to a fancy Italian place to celebrate again.

"So, any idea what you'll be doing?" asked Lily.

"No, but apparently, I'm going to need training."

"Hmm. Don't forget that you can debate your pay. That's a right you have."

"Right," Luka said with a grin. "Can't believe I'm landing a job so quick."

"Nah, I can believe it. You're terrific. You'll tell me how it goes, right?"

"Of course."

They ate in silence for a while. Then, out of the blue, Lily confessed, "God, I'm going to miss you when I leave. It's only been a few days and it's like everything has gone back to normal."

Luka could only hug her, right there in the restaurant.

The next day, shortly after Lily left to help with the lunch rush, Luka was at the central building, perfectly on time. Meiko was already there and didn't waste any time in showing her the basics. To Luka's surprise, she actually would be checking tickets. She would be given a uniform she would be required to wear, and she would need to memorize a bunch of things, like prices, and how the pricing zones work. When the brunette mentioned that Luka would need to memorize as much of the transportation network as possible, the pinkette replied that she had already done so.

"I know most of the city by heart, really," she admitted.

"That's excellent!"

She would work with a co-worker the first few weeks, so she could get a chance to sink into the situation. Meiko then showed her where 'her office' would be.

"It's a big room with a few computers and a coffee machine," Meiko explained. They entered the room, and sure enough, there were a few employees, a coffee machine, and a big board on the wall. "You guys get to choose which lines you want to check, just like the drivers can decide which routes they want to drive. Keeps monotony out of the whole job. But keep in mind that every slot has to be filled, and if you're the last to pick, you gotta deal with it."

Luka looked around. In the corner, a few of her to-be co-workers were having a very late lunch. They paid her no mind, which she appreciated for the time being: she was still reeling from all of the new information.

"What else is there?" pondered Meiko. "If you can't make it one day, please let us know as soon as possible. Between shifts, when you're in the city and have to keep the uniform on, please make an effort to keep your act together: when you're wearing the company's name, you represent us."

"Of course."

"Hmm." Meiko looked around, then called for one of the employees sitting at a computer. "Hey, Gakupo, could you come here for a second, please?"

Before the man could even stand, Luka understood that he would be working with her the first few weeks. He was an exceptionally tall man, with long purple hair. His stride was long, and his handshake firm. Yet, there was something kind, warm and welcoming about him. Maybe his smile.

"You two will be working together," explained the brunette. "Gakupo, she'll need to be shown all of the details. Clocking in, pricing system, the various protocols we have in place." He nodded, still with that slight smile. Meiko then turned towards her, asking "Any other questions?"

Luka shook her head.

"Perfect. Back to my office we go. See you, Gakupo!"

Because he offered, Luka shook his hand again. "I look forward to working with you," he said.

She couldn't rein in her smile. "Likewise."

Back in Meiko's office, the brunette opened a drawer and pulled out a small stack of papers. Luka was handed the various contacts she would need, such as Meiko's number, and Gakupo's, and a copy she could give to Kaito. Then there were lists of things she could start memorizing, as well as the job contract.

"I'll let you read that, take your time," Meiko said. "If need be, I'll answer any question you might still have."

Luka nodded and read through it. Conditions were acceptable, from the trial period to the pay to the working hours. Health insurance was included, covering various accidents that could happen while she was on the job.

"Oh, would you prefer a skirt or pants for your uniform?" asked Meiko. "We have both, so it's your choice, especially with this nice weather."

Luka chose the pants. Easier to walk around in. Meiko then handed her two plastic bags each containing a uniform. "You take that home and try them on. If they don't fit or if they're uncomfortable, we'll get another size. If you get past the trial period, we'll have them tailored."

They discussed some of the extra details, and then the contract was signed. Luka was slightly thrilled, all of a sudden. To have an actual job again. She remembered back when she needed to answer phones all day. Stability. Regular income. Nothing complicated or illegal. She could barely keep her composure.

"Excellent," said the brunette. "So, we'll be giving you the weekend to go over it all, and try the uniform. If it doesn't fit, just come back tomorrow, around two. But it's got to be ready for Monday."

"Understood."

"Well then," Meiko shook her hand. "Welcome on board."

Luka nodded.

She left with everything wedged under her arm, her heart pounding in her chest. In a good way. She was excited in a good way. She was happy.

She was finally happy.

Without Lily to keep her company— or to distract her — Luka went straight to business. She viewed the things she needed to memorize. Prices and their zones, protocols. Boring and dull, but important, stuff. Then she tried both uniforms. They were identical and fit like a glove, and she was somewhat relieved that she didn't have to go back there again before Monday. She was excited, but wanted to be able to think about it all first.

For a few minutes, she looked at her reflection. Most of the fabric was a dark, near-black blue, with sharp red accents. The name of the company was embroidered on the chest, to her left. Under the jacket, she wore a white shirt with a short tie. Briefly, she examined the buttons, also dark blue. Her pants were devoid of details with the exception of the pockets, which were decorated with a red line. She wore her own shoes, a pair that she had used back in the day. Dark and discreet, they weren't as neat as some boots, but they didn't clash with the uniform like sneakers would.

She liked it. More importantly, she liked how she filled it. Gone was the bony frame, the thin, wiry muscles. She took pride in her image for once. Though, she didn't quite appreciate how her hair pooled in the collar of her jacket. After some rummaging, she found a few hair ties, with which she put her hair up in a ponytail.

Perfect.

She didn't let the shoes, the fact that she was, once again, wearing a ponytail, remind her of back then. The dark clothes, the carefully chosen attire, it might have forced upon her that sour, somber memory. But no, this was something else. Something new. She wasn't crawling alone in the dark, she was going to go out and face the people, participate in society.

True to her obligations, she called Kaito and let him know of all of the updates. Since the work hours were free to pick, she said that she'd try to keep evenings free. Then she texted Lily, to let her know that it had gone well.

Everything was going well.

The next day, when she visited Kaito, she gave him a copy of the relevant information. Then, with a giddy excitement, her uniforms ready and hanging on a clothes hanger, she waited for Monday so that she could finally start her job.

Everything was suddenly so perfect. Luka couldn't imagine much that would make it all even better. The only thing that disappointed her somewhat was the fact that Lily was due to leave soon: the upcoming Thursday, she would be left alone again. But there was so much potential waiting for her. After Monday, she would have coworkers, and they might become new friends. And maybe, when her situation would finally be stable, she could call her parents, invite them over to talk. So much good could happen, was waiting to happen.

Maybe there was a tiny bit of apprehension towards her job. While she did know most of the city like the back of her hand, and she knew every bus stop, she hadn't ever actually taken the bus. Plus, the pricing zones weren't things she had ever needed to learn. As for how the ticket checking process would happen? She knew that the underground metro had gates to check tickets: no ticket, no entry. But how did the ticket checking happen on the bus? Would people expect her and her coworker's arrival, or would it be surprise, semi-random checks? How many people would try to get away with a free ride? Would she have to give fines to kids, too? She had many questions, but somehow, she knew that her coworker, Gakupo, would show her the ropes. There was something about his smile, his relaxed posture, that told her that he knew what he was talking about and that everything would be alright. How long had he been working there, she wondered? How long would he show her around? How many people would they work with? Did they work in groups?

The next day was Sunday again, and again she and Lily spent most of the day chatting. Mostly about her job, her questions about it, and Lily was unbelievably reassuring. She even teased her about Gakupo, asking what kind of a dude he was. Was he a hunk? With the sexy shoulders and the gorgeous eyes? Luka only rolled her eyes at those questions, but couldn't help but admit that she was looking forward to working with him.

And suddenly, Monday! Luka woke up at six in the morning, having barely slept because of excitement and nerves. Lily woke up just as early just to see her out, pep-speech at the ready, complimenting her on how well the uniform suited her, telling her that she would rock and that it would be amazing and that she was amazing and that she had nothing to fear and Luka was so giddy she almost jumped down the stairs and out the door.

Gakupo greeted her at the entrance, a little past seven in the morning. He was much more relaxed than when they had first met, but still, he had this kind and confident aura. They skipped the formal handshake, straight to the small talk. How are you doing, good, and you. Then he smiled a bit wider, his eyes grew a bit softer, and he said, "I've booked us a full morning and afternoon, with two hours for lunch. It should be enough to show you everything you need to see. That ok?"

"Sure."

"We'll walk to the bus stop. I'm guessing that won't be an issue."

"It's fine."

He told her where they were going, and immediately she was grateful: she knew exactly where that was, so she didn't have to follow him around in the dark. And before an uncomfortable silence could settle, he started explaining various things. What to do when a customer doesn't have a ticket, when they claim they have a pass but left it at home. He showed her how the little booklet with special paper worked, how she had to take a white and pink sheet, put the cardboard separator behind them, and like that, whatever she wrote would be transferred to the second sheet.

At that point, they had arrived at the stop. It was a stop in the middle of the bus's route, between two popular stops, so that they could check the maximum number of people. Two other employees arrived shortly after they did, and they greeted them warmly. Gakupo explained that they worked in teams of three at minimum to cover all of the doors of the bus, but since Luka was new, the two of them counted as one person.

The bus arrived, and they got on. The two others covered the middle and back doors, while Luka and Gakupo entered in the front. People pulled out tickets, passes, which Gakupo checked. He showed her what he looked at when it came to paper tickets, and how to use the machine for the plastic cards. Of course, someone hadn't paid their fare, so Gakupo wrote him a ticket, quickly walking the pinkette through the process. Throughout it all, he was kind and calm, and never Luka felt nervous or apprehensive.

They got off of the bus a few stops later, then started for another bus line nearby. The other two employees followed at a distance, letting Gakupo teach the pinkette about other protocols: what to do about drunk or unruly passengers, lost children. He gave her the book, asking if she felt comfortable with writing the next fine. She did, and in the next bus, she wrote three of them. She couldn't really feel bad for punishing those who hadn't paid for their trip, despite the glares and complaints. After all, she had just gotten out of prison herself, and understood more than ever that actions had consequences. Gakupo applauded her thick skin as they walked to yet another bus, congratulating her on how quickly she had picked up on the system. Luka couldn't help but beam at his words. By the time noon had arrived, she could confidently check tickets and write fines. Gakupo only had to deal with the plastic cards with his scanner most of the time.

"You're catching on really quickly," he complimented. They were sitting down in a small restaurant for their lunch break. "Most newcomers struggle with how busy it gets in those busses and fumble around a lot."

Luka, still happy but already tired, could only honestly reply, "It's straightforward enough."

He chuckled. "You'd think. Last person I had to train left in tears because he couldn't handle being insulted."

"Huh."

"Hm. I think you'll do really well here."

Before Luka could answer, their food was delivered, so Luka mumbled a quick 'thank you' and dove straight into her meal: she was surprisingly hungry. Gakupo did the same, but seemed to want to ask a question at one point. Luka paused so that they could speak.

"I'm sorry for being blunt," he started. "I'd prefer to get it over with, though. I just wanted to let you know that everyone in the office knows about what you did. Prison and all."

Luka couldn't be too surprised, but experienced that old stage fright all over. She'd almost forgotten her worries about being recognized in her glee of resuming a normal life. Of course, nobody had reacted to her in a particular way, so she couldn't be too infamous. But her coworkers almost had to know about her past. They still could have their opinions about her, her actions. "That's fine," she replied, swallowing past the quickly growing lump in her throat.

"I simply wanted to give you a heads-up. Some will carry some prejudice against you."

She couldn't help but deflate slightly. But she expected nothing less, and said so, her tone even.

He looked at her for a long moment, even taking another bite, but said eventually, "Well, I won't judge you for anything," he stated. "In fact—" he paused, and Luka repressed the memory of a certain tealette who had trouble finding her words one morning. "Well, I'm not sure how I would phrase this without seeming rude or pretentious. But, well, I know that all of the money you had was confiscated. It was in the news."

"Of course it was, it was from an illegal source. They wanted to try to get it back where it belonged."

"Exactly. So, if you want, I can pay for your lunch. If you want. At least until your first paycheck arrives this Friday."

Luka put down her fork, unable to find words at first. "It’s— It's fine. I have some money to help me get through the first months. I'll have to pay it back, eventually."

"Then please, allow me to alleviate that a little. It's just lunch, you shouldn't have to owe that to anybody."

"How about you?"

"It's on me, no need to pay it back. Really."

Luka took a sip, and felt a little moved. "Why help me?"

He smiled again. "For a few reasons, I suppose. You're only human, a person who just got out of a tough place. There are people who won't understand that you're just trying to come back to normalcy, so I'm willing to be the person who goes against them and helps you, instead." Luka briefly wondered if he knew someone who had been in her position. "Plus, well, even if you were convicted for, what was it, twelve years?" She nodded. "You're out quite early, and parole must be earned, I've read. Then, throughout the entire trial with all of the news coverage, all I could understand was that you're a good person who got stuck with the wrong people. So please, let me help."

The woman hesitated, and after a second, conceded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Luka wasn't sure how she felt about it at all. Moved, flattered, maybe a little bit upset, maybe a little bit optimistic. Something to think about.

After lunch, they visited a few more bus routes, wrote a few more fines, and checked a lot of tickets. By mid-afternoon, they returned back to the office. He showed her where they had to deliver the fines they'd written. "It's imperative they all get processed before the day ends. The earlier you get back, the earlier you need to hand them in so that the staff who handles this don't get swamped in the evening."

"Understood."

Then, he showed her how to log their hours on the computer, the routes they'd visited. They tried to keep a relatively random yet reliable pattern to make their interceptions unpredictable but frequent. Then he showed her how to choose a route and the hour on the board. Her name tag was purple, as was his, meaning that they had to work together for the time being and counted as a single person. Others were also in pairs, in different colors.

"How about you choose where we go tomorrow?" he suggested.

"Alright."

She thought about it for a while, and decided on the more touristic parts of the city, to view the monuments she knew all about but had never had the time to visit.

"Ah, good choice. I love the museum there," he commented as she placed the tags.

"I've never been there," she replied, to which he scoffed.

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "Really? Then we must remedy that. You are getting into that museum tomorrow."

"Would we have time?"

"Make time! Let's make it our lunch break. The museum has excellent sandwiches; I can guarantee it."

Luka couldn't help but smile. Just then, Meiko knocked on the door.

"Hello!" she greeted. "How was the first day?"

"It went well."

"She's learning very quickly," he complimented with a smile. "And she has beautiful handwriting: I've never seen such elegant fines!"

Luka couldn't find an answer to that. Meiko just grinned and thanked them for the good work. Before she left, however, she gave Luka a thumbs-up. "Uniform looks good, Luka! Especially with the ponytail!"

Gakupo then announced happily that he had nothing else to show her. Of course, they would continue working together for a few days, and would surely come across rare situations that he had forgotten about.

"You'd think that it's a pretty simple job, but when you're working with people, you can expect anything."

Luka nodded. Then they said goodbye, and she went home.

During her walk, she processed her day. Mostly, she thought about Gakupo. He was kind, and she liked the way he would do his best to explain things in advance, and telling her where they were going, so she didn't have to follow him around. He was open, and honest, even about her potential co-workers not being open-minded about her past. As she had said, it was to be expected, but before he had mentioned it, it hadn't really crossed her mind. That might have curbed her enthusiasm, but Gakupo had said that he'd stand with her, he'd help her. The fact that he had paid for her lunch moved her more than she wanted to admit. Of course, Lily had done the same when she had heard that all of Luka's money was basically a loan, but Luka didn't expect that kind of gesture from a relative stranger. He was, definitely, someone she looked forward to seeing again.

She supposed that she was looking forward to the next day. The task wasn't too difficult and it wasn't dull, either. She got to walk around, which she liked a lot, and maybe she could show off her shortcuts one day. And who knew, maybe she would change everybody's mind with time, and they'd forgive, if not forget, what she'd done.

She smiled, remembering how Gakupo had explained why he was on her side. He understood that she wasn't that kind of person, that she wasn't evil, and it touched her. Even if the job would eventually turn monotonous, she concluded, she'd still look forward to it, because she'd get to see him.

When she finally got home, she was giddy again. Yes, despite the minor setbacks, everything really was looking up. Everything was going back to normal and she had more help than ever. No more looking back, she told herself. Go to the bright future that awaits you! With a tired happiness and a content peace of mind, she took off her uniform and washed it, smoothing out the wrinkles and picking off the pieces of dust she found from the second set, preparing it for the next day. It really did suit her, she decided as she pulled out her ponytail. It was a nice uniform with nice colors and she looked great in it. If one day she would quit or be fired (she dreaded the thought), she would miss it.

Wearier than ever, Luka opened her closet to pull on something more relaxed. Jeans and an oversized t-shirt, maybe. Something roomier. She clumsily rummaged through her stuff: while Lily had been kind enough to put all of her clothes back, even after a week Luka still hadn't quite sorted out where she had put everything. Finally, she found something that looked familiar, but when she unfolded it, it was more than a size too small. Confused, she wondered if it was Lily's, but it would have been too small for her, too. It was too familiar to be Lily's, too. She had purchased it, she remembered with certainty. But why was it so—

It hit her like a ton of bricks.

She had bought this shirt for Miku.

It was still clean, wasn't it? Even after three years. Had the tealette picked up her other things? She must have; Luka hadn't found anything else that belonged to her. Had she forgotten this one?

Luka realized she was shaking slightly. One of the first shirts she had bought, that day after Miku's arrival. Was it a coincidence? Could it be?

With trembling hands, she felt the fabric. Cotton. She always bought cotton or wool; she despised synthetics. It was a plain shirt, a pale blue. The kind of color Miku usually wore. No text or markings, it wasn't even from a particular brand. A generic, cheap shirt that would suit the young woman just fine, given the circumstances. It was perfect to dress the girl who had only the pajamas on her back. Vaguely, Luka remembered she'd also bought a few other, similar shirts in other, bright tones, a sweater, and a few pairs of pants that were probably just a bit too big, but that had a rope go through the waistline that she could tighten. And the shoes.

She sunk to her knees, clinging to the shirt. With a start, she noticed that Lily hadn't washed it; it still smelled of her.

The memories assaulted her so violently it hurt. She remembered how they would chat for hours on end. The hot cocoa they had every evening. How she helped her dry her hair and how Miku would inevitably fall asleep, and she would follow. How she curled up against her when she couldn't sleep, how she held her. She remembered her bright laugh, her bitter tears. She remembered the trial.

Luka cried.


	2. Reunions

Luka had completely forgotten that Miku owned a cell phone.

Luka had never realized that Miku had used it to record them.

The tealette had brought her phone and her charger with her to Luka's studio. Somehow. Every now and then, she had charged it from the outlet behind the couch.

Luka had never realized.

Miku had stood in front of the crowd, and explained it all. She had intended to upload the footage, had Luka come to harm her. Unintentionally, at least at first, she had only recorded Luka's desperate attempts to pick up all of the pieces.

When the accused heard all this, she could only stare at her friend, as she stood there delivering her first speech as a free woman. She was beyond surprised, beyond emotion. A mere statue who could, from that point on, only watch as Miku took control of her entire trial.

Maybe, she might have been angry that the younger woman was trying to help her get out of it. Or she would have been glad that she had managed to make such a true friend. Or relieved, that her intentions had been sincerely good from the beginning, for if she had been cruel, Miku and her evidence would have damned her.

Again, people argued. Is it worth watching? Was Luka aware of the recordings, was it all an act? What will it change?

Eventually, they did get to watch the footage. In chronological order. The pinkette remained dumbstruck.

There was so much to process. Everything had been recorded. From the shoes to the story. The chocolate to the conversation. She couldn't believe how much they'd both changed in the previous months. Throughout the footage, she could see how they grew closer, how the fear melted away. Some parts were difficult to watch, though: her first nightmare, for example. Others were more pleasant, like the songs they had sung. And as the truth of what had happened unfolded, the general opinion shifted.

The first videos proved to the world that Luka was honest as could be when it came to the facts: she had told Miku the exact same story as she had told everyone else. Nobody had been lied to. She was glad that Miku had been so clever, right from the beginning. Hopefully, it would bring the clarity needed for everybody to make up their minds and let the jury make their own decision. But as more chapters were shown, from Miku's brilliant debates to Luka leaving the home for a week, the opinion on her motive turned sour. People supposed that she was being manipulative, luring the tealette into a false sense of security by catering to her every need. Never mind that Luka legitimately couldn't find a counter-argument to the tealette's points, never mind that she just wanted to help.

The trial went on and on, for days on end. People debated about her motives, her objectives. Some speculated that she had intended to keep Miku prisoner for her ex-boss, to sell her later, but had turned herself in when it all fell apart. But why would she wait so long, 'til so many of the members had been caught? And what point is there in engaging in such private conversations with her prisoner? After all, as the videos went on, it became evident that Luka was hiding nothing from the tealette. Luka's lawyer even argued that the illusion would have been nothing more than a waste of time to fabricate, for the pinkette displayed behavior that would have ruined the illusion far too quickly: she was too open about the danger that loomed, she was too quick to remind the tealette that she could already have lied, that she was a criminal. Plus, Miku's arguments were fair, given their situation. There was nothing more to it, he said.

Despite that, it never ended. Asking Luka about her intentions was pointless, and the evidence didn't say enough.

But there was more to see.

* * *

"Cheers!"

The clinking of glasses filled the room. To nobody's but Luka's surprise, Meiko chugged her entire glass within a second, while others were congratulating the pinkette on her first week of work. Everybody was energetic and happy, and Luka couldn't remember the last time she felt so…

Surrounded? Supported?

Happy?

Of course, just the day before, Lily had gone home. The blonde hadn't quite yet found a job, but she had signed a contract for a new place to live and was staying at her parents', waiting to move in. The goodbyes had been surprisingly easy, for Lily promised she'd visit often, and Luka knew that from that point on she wouldn't be alone again. After all, Gakupo was proving to be a valuable friend, as was Meiko. The second day of work, he had kept his promise and had shown her around the museums, and when one of her coworkers gave her some difficulty because of her history, Meiko promptly had a chat with him.

"So, good job on your first week," congratulated Meiko without a single slur. "Now, you're officially a part of the family."

"Officially?" asked the pinkette. "I thought that the trial period—"

"The trial period is, officially, two months long. But those who make it past a week tend to, officially, stick. So yes, officially," the brunette said with a wink.

"Thanks," replied Luka, watching as her supervisor poured herself another glass. "And thank you for hiring me in the first place."

"Pssh. We had interviewed, like, fifteen other people that day. Half of them arrived late, which is out of the question in our job. Of the half that remained, half hit on me. So, euh, no. The last, like, four people were good. But we knew that you knew this town like the back of your hand. We wouldn't be wasting time with you, teaching you where north and south is."

Luka laughed, wondering if she was allowed to have that kind of information.

"So Meiko, is workplace flirting out of the question?" she heard. The pinkette turned around to find Gakupo standing there, champagne in hand.

"In the workplace, yes!" replied the brunette, who finally seemed to be showing the first signs of inebriation. "But clock out and you're clean as a whistle. I don't care what you guys are doing at home. Do coke, I don't care!"

"She doesn't mean that last part," whispered Gakupo.

"I sure hope so," Luka said with a chuckle.

"If you arrive on time and your nose is clean, you're good to go!" continued Meiko. "By the way. I've spoken to some of the other employees here who seemed a bit grumpy about your history. I've convinced them to give you a chance, so go to them and just talk it out. Show them that you're the good person you are."

The pinkette was a bit taken aback; she hadn't expected Meiko to go the extra mile. She thanked her nonetheless.

"Just let me know if they pester you again. If they do, they'll be fired. They know that. Can't have none of that shit here, not under my watch. And I'm always watching."

"Thanks," Luka mumbled, uncertain of how serious the brunette was.

"Now! Go socialize!" and off wandered Meiko.

"It would probably be a good idea," admitted Gakupo. "Since we're no longer stuck together, you're going to start working with everyone."

"Yeah," Luka trailed off.

"Something the matter?"

"Not really. I suppose I'll miss working with you," she said, honestly, his recent question still present in her mind.

He smiled proudly, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll work together again. All we have to do is make sure our nametags are in the same slots when we organize our day."

"True."

"Now, go talk to everybody. I bet they're all looking forward to getting to know you." She nodded, but before she could turn around, he added, "And don't forget: have fun!"

Have fun she did. A few minutes in several of her conversations, she would inevitably get a mention of her history. Oftentimes, it was accompanied by an apology or an excuse, but at the end of it all, she was looking forward to working with almost every person in the room.

She'd never felt so safe.

Throughout the entire evening, though, she couldn't quite forget what Gakupo had said. More importantly, she couldn't get a specific t-shirt out of her mind.

* * *

Luka slumped against the table, coffee in hand. Gakupo joined her, a smile on his face.

"It's only eleven, and I'm exhausted," mumbled Luka.

"Welcome to the undesired morning shift," answered Gakupo. "I heard from the others that it went well."

Luka nodded and sipped some of her coffee. "Yeah. There's almost nobody on the bus at three in the morning. And those who are there have passes, so it's easy."

"Yup. But it's three in the morning."

"Three in the morning," Luka groaned. "You know, I used to work 24-hour shifts, back then. I'd never sleep. But after three years in prison, you get used to a nice rhythm."

"Well, you can still count yourself lucky. You won't believe which route I'll have to take today."

"Oh? Where are you headed?"

He quickly described the location, an intersection of several different bus routes. "Can you guess why it'll be hell?"

She thought about it for a while, then it dawned on her. "Oh shoot, you're going to check the school kids."

"Yup."

"I've seen those buses roll around. They're full to the brim."

"That's the first bad thing. Most who live far enough get a government-funded pass, but then there are those who live one, two, stops away from the school, but get on anyway to hang out with their friends an extra five minutes. Guess how many of those buy a ticket for two stops."

"Dang. How often do you check those lines?"

"Not often enough. Haven't sufficiently traumatized them quite yet."

She laughed tiredly. "Then I'll just feel lucky, and I'll think of you when I take my nice and cozy nap this afternoon."

He rolled his eyes with a grin. "There you have the blessing of the morning shift," he mumbled into his cup. Luka giggled and finished her drink.

A few of their colleagues said goodbye as they went to start their shift. Everybody replied, breaking the quiet in the room.

"So, did you log your hours?"

"Yeah."

"Hand in the fines?"

"Done."

"Good. I need to go now, too. Lunch break is soon for the kids. I have to make it in time to kill their appetite."

"Have fun!"

"Thanks." He stood, three others joining him, all mumbling about having to wade through the packed bus filled with noisy, hungry pre-teens.

Luka stood as well. She liked spending time in the office, but she would also like getting a head start on that nap. She put away her cup, ready to leave, before Gakupo came back.

"Euh, just one question, before I officially clock in," he started.

She froze. Despite her better judgment, she replied, "Go ahead."

Gakupo hesitated, and Luka couldn't breathe. He'd asked about workplace flirting, and she feared his question would be related. Please don't ask me on a date, she thought. Maybe the potential question would have made her happy, in another time, another place. He was kind, he made her feel safe, he was handsome and she was happy. But—

"We all like going out to a local bar on Wednesdays," he said. "It's never busy in the middle of the week, and we just take the evening to wind down and mingle."

Luka didn't quite allow herself to feel relieved yet. "Who's coming?"

"Whoever wants to, whoever can. Meiko's almost always there, I'll be there, and most of our coworkers. Some people from the other departments join us, too, so it's a good way to meet everybody in the company."

She smiled. "And how drunk will everyone get?"

"Not very," he said with a laugh. "It's to wind down and talk, mostly. Not to get wasted. It's a nice place, really."

"Alright, I'll be there."

He grinned, explaining that the bar wasn't exactly close to the office. He described which bus gets closest, and to Luka's relief, it was a bus that came close to where she lived.

"I'll meet you at your stop, then," he said. "I take the same bus."

"Perfect! So, I'll see you this evening?"

"Yup. See you later!"

They waved goodbye, and off he went. She watched him go, a timid smile plastered on her lips.

A party, was it? A get-together? She was somewhat ecstatic: she hadn't gone out and had fun in years. When did she last hang out with a bunch of people? Back in high school, with Lily, for sure. Despite the answer, she still feared that Gakupo might ask her out, and felt silly for it. The only reason she had to worry was because of the question he'd asked Meiko because it felt significant: surely he had worked there for a while and knew the rules. The possibility that he was flirting with Meiko existed, of course, but then he would have flirted with her before. No, it felt too well-timed and she felt it was directed towards her.

Luka did feel a little bit presumptuous to assume that. He had always been kind, of course, but never did she have the impression that he was interested in her. Was it a cruel form of wishful thinking? Maybe she did like him, maybe a little, and was looking for signs, but didn't understand why she would also feel such apprehension towards the possibility. If he did ask her out, what would she do, she wondered. Turn him down politely? It's not the right time, for sure; she's just gotten out of prison, was still getting used to a normal life again. He would understand that. Would she be interested, later? Probably, she admitted. If they got to know each other better. If…

She sighed, realizing that her afternoon would be a long one, even with the nap she had planned. She opened the door to her studio slowly, the emptiness of it still alien to her. Nobody was waiting for her. The rollaway had been put away, as its name would indicate. The bags of clothes, the extra hair- and toothbrushes were all gone. She tried to focus on other things, like her shift that morning. Her coworkers had been very understanding and kind, she reminded herself. At one point, they had laughed with her when she realized that she had started going the wrong way, for she had tried to avoid security cameras by instinct.

She still knew where they all were, those cameras.

Luka slumped; thinking of something else didn't help. She slowly took off her uniform and changed into something light, checked her agenda, noted that she would have to see Kaito the following day. That evening, she was going to a bar with her coworkers. Otherwise, nothing much was planned.

She thought of Gakupo again. At that moment, he was probably waist-deep in a bus full of kids, all clamoring and trying to hide and making noise. She didn't envy him and looked forward to her nap. After the nap, the party.

She did have something to wear for the party, she told herself. After she had received her paycheck, she'd gotten herself some new clothes, partly to keep up with the times, partly because most of what she had was old to begin with: during her reign in the Hatsune household, she hadn't taken the time to get anything new. So she had new jeans, nice shirts, new boots. Makeup, or no? Back in high school, she would put on some, for the occasional night out.

She wondered how different it would be from the nights out with her schoolmates. Vaguely, she remembered that she had a boyfriend at the time. Some stupid high school fling, wasn't it? More of a status move than anything else, maybe. She didn't even remember why they had broken up. She sighed again, realizing how long ago that was. She wasn't eighteen anymore: she was twenty-five. Those blissful high school years were long gone. That relationship, those past friendships, those were all long, long gone.

Her sleep was restless. It had dawned on her how long three years actually was. In a blink of an eye, she had gone from moving out of her parent's house to being released out of prison. Nineteen to twenty-five, just like that. In a state of half-sleep, half-dream, she tried to calculate how old _she_ had been, right then. When they'd met she was only seventeen, wasn't she? How old was she now? Twenty-two? What was she doing right then? Studying? Exploring? Was she also wondering about dates? Did she find someone?

The thoughts made her more upset than she wanted to admit, but she swallowed them with practiced ease: they were hardly new. She grabbed the t-shirt that was sitting on the corner of her bed, pulled it towards her, held it. She could barely blame her sleepy state.

When she woke up later that afternoon, she was still tired. Nonetheless, she got showered, changed. She put on a bit of makeup, looked in the mirror, and felt pretty. With a small smile on her lips, she headed out the door and waited for the bus. Gakupo was seated at the front of the bus, waving at her when it arrived. He was wearing a button-up shirt, no tie, sleeves rolled up mid-forearm. Nice brown shoes, polished.

"Hello," he greeted as she sat down. "You look wonderful."

"So do you," replied Luka. "It's the first time I see you without the uniform."

He chuckled, "It is, isn't it. I've been told that the uniform is what suits me best, so I hope this isn't too much of a disappointment."

She scoffed. "Please."

They chatted until the bus arrived at the end stop, where they descended. Together, they walked to the bar.

"I feel like I have to warn you," he said, "That lots of university students hang around here."

"Oh?" Luka was slightly surprised; it didn't look like the kind of place students would be; the streets were almost deserted.

"Well, it's a karaoke bar, so it does attract the younger crowd."

Luka almost stopped dead in her tracks, nearly tripping over her own momentum.

"Is something wrong?" Gakupo asked.

"No," Luka answered quickly. "I suppose I didn't expect it."

"Don't worry, you're not expected to sing. Others can do that for you. It does set a nice jovial mood though; most everyone likes it here."

"Right."

As if on cue, Gakupo told her they'd turn right. She looked up at the building; large and pale, made to look like it was made out of marble. The first floor was cut open by a series of arches, and on each side were clothes shops. They walked between the shops, finding at the end of the arches a big empty court, with more shops surrounding them. In the middle, an escalator that would bring them to the higher floors.

"Second floor," said Gakupo.

Because of the late hour, the escalators were turned off. They walked up, and indeed, on the second floor, instead of a large shop, were the opaque walls of a bar. Neon lights indicated the name: Harlequin. When someone stepped out, chatter and music could be heard before the door closed, sealing all sounds inside.

Luka followed her colleague through the door and was surprised at how quiet it actually was. To the left, the bar itself, to the right, a series of booths following the wall all the way to the back. There was an open space with more tables, and way in the back, to the left, was the stage where people sang. Someone was standing there, singing quietly to a song Luka didn't recognize. It must be a recent hit, she told herself.

Gakupo waved to colleagues who were sitting in a booth to the right, a little way from the door, close to the bar. Luka recognized Meiko and a few others she had most frequently worked with. They all greeted the newcomers enthusiastically. A column of beer was already resting on the table, along with a few extra glasses.

"Welcome!" exclaimed Meiko, who was surprisingly sober. "Luka, come sit next to me, I promise it's quieter here."

Luka obeyed, Gakupo sitting across from her. The pinkette had her back to the stage, but seeing the glaring lights that illuminated his face, she felt she could barely complain. Facing the door was just fine.

"How is it quieter here?" she asked her boss. "Less light?"

"Less light, less sound, and you're far from those crazies," answered the brunette while pointing to her other colleagues, who were sitting next to the wall. "Only con is that they'll ask for more booze eventually, so we'll end up getting it."

She nodded with a grin. "Gotcha."

Meiko then handed her a pint of beer. Luka didn't look forward to downing it. Maybe some sips, but she never really was super fond of the stuff. Plus, she had her parole to keep in mind: no excess, regardless of her fondness for the poison.

"If it's not your taste, then feel free to get something from the bar," Meiko said. "And don't feel too paranoid with me around; I believe in a separation of workplace and private life."

"So, what can I get away with?" teased Luka.

"Bad jokes," mumbled Gakupo's neighbor.

"Terrible innuendos," added a colleague whose name she hadn't yet memorized.

"Shameless flirting," added another.

"Basically," Gakupo said, "Don't assault people, don't insult people, don't get naked and don't try to bribe the barman. You'll be fine."

Luka laughed. "I'll behave."

"Good girl. Remember that you're technically still in your two-month trial period, though, so I'll be extra strict with you," Meiko answered with a wink, and Luka blew a raspberry. Meiko laughed, and exclaimed, "Cheers!"

They all clinked glasses again before chugging. Luka took only a small, careful sip. Bitter, but she didn't expect anything else. She could drink it, albeit not quickly, so she doubted she would get anywhere close to drunk. Thank goodness.

Everybody started chatting, and before Luka could even begin to feel left out, Meiko leaned towards her.

"So, how's life?" she asked.

"Everything's going well," Luka answered. "I can pay rent, I can eat, I have a job."

"I heard from Gakupo that you had a friend staying over."

"Yes, Lily. She's my best friend, actually."

Meiko nodded. "Good. Hated to think that you had no friends after prison."

Luka smiled, touched. "Thanks. But she's got my back."

"And so do we!" assured the brunette. "And the family?"

Luka sighed, took a quick sip. "Not so supportive."

"That's a real shame."

"I'll try to reconnect, though," Luka tried to reassure her. "The only tricky thing is that I can't actually go home to explain myself."

"Right, right," Meiko nodded again. "No phone call can be sincere enough to explain to your parents why you spent three years in jail, I'm guessing."

"You're right," Luka admitted. "I'm scared that if I try to call, they'll just hang up on me."

"Were they at the trial, though?"

"Yeah, but that didn't help."

"Geez. I followed part of it on TV. News and stuff. I didn't get why you were antagonized so much."

"Really?"

"Well, eventually, yeah. At first, I hated your guts because all media said that you kidnapped a kid. Then, the arguments started pouring in in your favor. Why did you end up getting twelve years, by the way? I thought it would be less."

"I think that they understood that at one point, I was cornered; when I kidnapped her, it was because I had no other choice. But before that point, I had no excuse."

"Aahh." Meiko drank a little bit. "Right, that makes sense."

The brunette had no reservation about asking questions, and Luka felt that while she asked a lot, she would respect her if she didn't want to answer anything. Others eventually asked questions, too. Meiko was the most persistent, though, and was most curious about her 'boss', and how they had met. The story of her post online felt like a distant one; it was so long ago. Meiko asked how creepy he was, what it was like to be blindfolded and led to a secret location, among other questions none had thought of asking before.

"That sounds scary as balls," Meiko told her with a slight slur: her glass was almost empty by that point, and Luka had only drunk from hers' a few times.

"It was," Luka said with a chuckle. "Scary as balls."

Then Gakupo asked her a question about the museum they had visited days ago, which triggered a debate about which exposition in the museum was the best. His neighbor, an art enthusiast apparently, was adamant that the west wing, the permanent collection, would always be the most interesting, and Luka had to side with him on that one, much to Gakupo's chagrin. At one point during the debate, though, Gakupo paused, looking somewhere into the room.

"What's wrong, boys?" asked the brunette, who had noticed their sudden stillness.

"Euh." Gakupo was still plenty sober, but he seemed to hesitate, his eyes darting from Luka to someplace behind her. Just as she was going to turn around, he stopped her. "There's someone here you know."

"Was she ever here before?" asked the art amateur, glancing at the same person.

"Nah, if she was a regular we would've noticed, man. We wouldn't be gone here with Luka."

"Who are you talking about?" asked Meiko, but Luka felt like she already knew.

She grasped the mug with both hands. Even before her name was even said, she was already shaking.

"Miku," Gakupo admitted.

"That's not, like, an issue, right?" asked the anonymous coworker, who was already halfway to drunk. "You won't get in trouble or anything?"

"Yeah, you weren't told that you gotta keep a distance or something?"

"If you were, we'll take the blame!" exclaimed another. "Promise, we didn't know she'd be here."

"Did anybody see her come in?"

"Nah, she must've been here already," said Meiko. "We've got eyes on the door."

Luka couldn't help but feel slightly tense. Miku, here? Despite that, she managed to compose an answer, even if it was a shaky one, "Don't worry, I haven't been told to keep away."

"So, no trouble?"

"No, but I suppose it's a little unexpected."

"Damn, sorry," mumbled Meiko. "If we'd known, we wouldn't have brought you here."

Luka nodded, but could barely focus on the words. She was grateful for the consideration and concern some of her coworkers had shown, but mostly, she was nervous. Miku was there. "It's fine," she said, keeping her eyes on the faint reflection of her hands in the glass of her mug.

"We're going to have to scope out a new joint," slurred someone from the other end of the table.

"No, it's fine," Luka insisted, quickly. "You said you hadn't seen her here before, right? What are the odds this will happen again?"

"This is a university joint."

"Odds are fair," Gakupo admitted.

"Wanna switch places with me?" Meiko asked.

Luka shook her head and focused on her mug, the lights that got caught inside, the sheen of her nail polish. She tried to play it cool, stay calm, but she couldn't organize her thoughts. Some of her colleagues dismissed the issue, but Gakupo and Meiko remained concerned, Meiko even asking if she was sure.

"It's fine. Besides, it's not like we were on bad terms." She wanted to be firm, but could only mumble.

Gakupo nodded slowly, casting one more concerned gaze her way before returning to his conversation with his art friend. Luka couldn't help but notice that he kept looking into the room, probably keeping tabs on the tealette's location.

"You sure?" whispered Meiko for the third time.

"Yeah. We, uhm, we used to be friends, even."

She looked confused. "But you kidnapped her."

Luka bit her lip. Her coworkers were understanding, but they'd never asked about Miku. They didn't know what it was like, between them. She remembered the promise she'd made. The trial. Then, three years of radio silence. No letters. No calls. No visits. She tasted bitter regret on her tongue. She drank some beer, but it didn't help.

Had Miku abandoned her? After the pinkette had denied all form of contact with everyone, had she effectively broken her promise and accidentally cut Miku out of her life? No, she was more understanding than that. At least, she had been. Was she still? Was she still the Miku she knew? Would they even be able to recognize each other?

She tried to calm herself down by telling herself that while she knew of Miku's presence, the contrary probably wasn't true. It was entirely possible that they'd graze each other, but wouldn't meet. Her return to normalcy probably wasn't in danger.

Would it be, Luka asked herself. She knew why she was so apprehensive about seeing Miku again, but wondered if there would be any actual consequences. Maybe they'd get along just fine. Maybe not. Would others mind? What would it change?

"Oh! Incoming," Gakupo warned.

Luka froze. Time to find out, apparently. Somehow, she noticed that most of her other colleagues had turned their attention to her, to see what would happen.

She looked up just as Miku walked up to her.

The tealette seemed just as surprised as she was. Maybe she looked a little bit older, too. A little tanner, maybe, but it was hard to tell with the light. Was she wearing makeup? She looked good. She looked great. Wonderful. Beautiful, even, because she had just smiled and Luka couldn't help but smile back.

"I can't believe it," Miku blurted after half a second of silence. "Luka?"

She stood, unable to control the feeling of happiness that bubbled inside her. It took over her and she could barely find anything to say. In the end, the one word she could summon was, 'Hey'.

The next second she was engulfed in a hug she was already returning. It was as if no time had passed at all, and Luka found herself holding back tears. Maybe Miku was a bit taller than before, but what did it matter. It really was just like it always had been.

"Wow, has it really been three years?" asked the tealette as she pulled away, but only enough so that they could face each other.

"Yeah," Luka replied, barely able to compose her thoughts. Her mind was spinning. "How have you been?"

Miku grinned. She was so close. Luka realized that they were less than an arm's length away from each other. Miku's hands were still on her hips, and she wondered if the tealette was slightly drunk. The thought in mind, she realized she could smell the drink on her. When the tealette answered, she could even hear the slight slur. "Better than ever, Luka. And you?"

"I'm great. I've been freed a little less than a month ago."

"A month?" exclaimed the tealette, in slight overreaction. She really was tipsy.

Luka forced herself to ignore the hands that had squeezed slightly during the response. "You didn't know?"

"No. My parents must have conveniently forgotten to tell me." The pinkette frowned, but before she could ask, Miku continued, "So, what are you doing here?"

"Night out with a few coworkers," she answered, nodding in their direction. She turned to face them, most of which were surprised by the entire exchange. She chuckled, suddenly feeling shy. "Miku, this is my boss, Meiko, and a friend of mine, Gakupo. Guys, this is Miku."

"Nice to meet you," the brunette said, politely.

"Likewise," Miku replied, before turning to Luka and all but blurting, "I have so much to tell you, but I'm in a party with some friends who just got engaged so I kind of got to be there with them and I'm a little drunk and I don't want you to see me like this, so maybe we could meet up again sometime?"

Luka blinked in surprise and amusement. "Sure."

"Oh, here, let me give you my number," mumbled Miku, holding on to Luka's arm and leaning against her slightly as she fished her phone out of her pocket. The moment she held her phone, though, she admitted "I can't remember it. Darn it. Drawing a blank."

The pinkette laughed. "Here, I'll give you mine."

Miku handed Luka her phone, never letting go of her arm. She stood slightly behind the pinkette, looking over the taller woman's shoulder and watching as she created a new contact. The pinkette could feel Miku's warm breath through the fabric of her shirt and had to admit that the younger woman really did smell of alcohol. Plus, she seemed to depend on her grasp to keep most of her balance; she was drunker than Luka had anticipated.

The moment she had finished putting in her number, she handed the phone back to Miku.

"Thanks," mumbled the tealette as she quickly wrote and sent a text message. Luka could feel her own phone vibrate in her pocket. "Got it?"

"Yup," she answered after checking her own phone: a new message from an unknown number.

"Cool. Let's hang out sometime."

"I look forward to it."

Miku grinned. "Me too! Now I gotta get back to my party. See you later, Luka!"

The tealette disappeared into the room, the lights swallowing her whole. Luka sat back down at her table.

"You weren't kidding when you said that you two were friends, huh?" asked Meiko with a grin.

"Nope." Luka took a small sip of her drink. She was still shaking slightly.

"She seems like a nice girl," said Gakupo.

"She is."

Gakupo seemed to want to ask a question, but Meiko started a conversation with him. The brunette was probably giving her time to think. That was absolutely what she needed, and part of her wished that she was somewhere quieter, with less song, less lights, and less people.

She realized that adrenaline was running through her veins. She felt energized, excited, somewhat terrified.

Her reunion with Miku hadn't happened in the way she had expected. Nor did she really expect it to happen so soon. And what did she say about her parents not telling their daughter about her release? And where, or when, exactly, would they meet up again? Where did Miku like to go? What kind of person had she become?

Maybe it was the fact that she was tipsy that threw the pinkette off so much. Her speech wasn't as she had remembered, the way she moved was sloppy, and she was definitely more 'hands-on' than she had ever been. But her taste in clothing hadn't changed, she still wore her hair in the same way, and her voice was still light and clear.

Or maybe it was the fact that she had other friends, another event to be at. But Luka dismissed that; she felt only happiness at the fact that Miku had, apparently, managed to find people to be with and places to go to. This was a university joint, too, so she was probably studying something she liked. If she was studying, then she was allowed to go out like a regular person. Were her parents still traveling all the time? It was possible.

Maybe it was the fact that Luka still wasn't entirely sure how to behave. After the trial… She shook her head. Luka had gotten over that, she insisted on it. She just needed to get used to actually seeing Miku again after such a long time. It had been three years, after all. Maybe Miku was mad that she had cut off all contact, despite their promise to keep in touch, or maybe, on the contrary, she understood. Yeah, she didn't know where the tealette stood, after all that time. Before, she had known exactly who and where Miku was. But right then? She could just as well be a whole new person. No wonder why she was so nervous.

Luka took a bigger gulp of her beer and grimaced. She felt thirsty and it helped a bit, but she would have preferred water.

"Not your thing, eh?" asked Meiko.

"Not really," Luka replied with a laugh. "Too bitter." She wondered if Miku liked beer.

"If you want, you can order beer with some syrup they make here. A bunch of fruity flavors that make it nice and sweet."

Syrup in beer? "Why not order a different drink altogether?" asked the pinkette.

"Those aren't as cheap," Meiko said with confidence.

"Hm. I might try it next time. For now, I'll settle with this."

"Alright, no pressure. If you can't finish it, Al will volunteer."

Luka rolled her eyes.

"So, you're going to hang out with Miku again?" asked Gakupo, who had downed some more of his drink.

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."

"So, what exactly are you two?" he asked. "Friends?"

"She just said so, dummy," teased Meiko. "Though I can't really imagine it."

"We're friends. Despite everything that happened, we are," Luka tried to say with confidence. The adrenaline that lingered threatened to make her voice shake.

"How did that happen? I mean, didn't you try to kill her at some point?" Luka froze and Meiko shot the unknown coworker a glare. "No, I mean—" he chuckled awkwardly. "I'm not blaming you or anything, Luka. I'm not saying that she should hate you, but I'm wondering why she doesn't. If someone did that to me, I wouldn't take it so well, you know?"

"Victor, you can't just ask people these things," hissed Gakupo.

"Well, you can ask, but you can't possibly hope to understand. They were in the thick of it, back then; we're all gifted with hindsight," contributed Gakupo's neighbor. "I bet there's a ton of stuff the media didn't tell us about it all. We can't get it."

"Right, I'm sorry for asking," Victor apologized, sincere. "I'm just a little confused."

"Don't worry, I am, too," confessed Luka. "But you're right. A lot happened. A whole lot."

He leaned closer. "Like, why did they want her dead in the first place?"

"Alright, that's enough!" Meiko grumbled. "We're going back to a nice pleasant topic or we're leaving!"

Immediately the others started talking about a sports game that happened recently, and Gakupo quickly whispered an apology on their behalf. Luka could only sigh in relief. By then, she had mostly managed to calm herself down, but she couldn't forget that Miku was still there, somewhere in the room. She tried to listen to the music, most of which were hits that were released while she was away, so unless she knew the song, she focused on the conversation.

It turned out to be a very pleasant evening. After a few hours, some of the employees, namely the ones who were to work early that morning, started leaving. The art enthusiast went first, Victor a close second. By that time, Meiko was halfway to drunk, which made the pinkette laugh, remembering when she was told that they organized the outing mostly to relax. Luckily, Gakupo remained almost entirely sober and spoke with Luka the most, and while the pinkette appreciated the relaxed conversation, she couldn't forget the questions he'd asked.

_Is workplace flirting out of the question?_

_So, what exactly are you two?_

_Friends?_

She wondered, too. She wondered what she wanted, right then. In front of her, a kind and understanding coworker, somewhere behind her, a tipsy, older version of a young woman she once knew.

By the end of the evening, only a handful of them were left. When she decided to leave, she decided that she had had a great time, and was already looking forward to the following Wednesday. She and Gakupo took the same bus home, and he politely bid her a good night when she stepped off at her stop. At home, she immediately changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth. Vaguely, she remembered that she had to charge her phone, and when she picked it up, she saw it again: New message from an unknown number.

She unlocked her phone and looked at the message. _Glad you found me. :)_

Luka wordlessly selected the phone number and chose to add it to a new contact. 'Miku', she wrote. The other numbers in her contacts were Lily, Gakupo, Meiko, a few other coworkers, Kaito. Not an amazing list, but somehow, Miku was a significant addition.

'Glad you found me'? she wondered what the tealette had meant. Found her at the party, since her parents hadn't meant for her to find out Luka was free? Found her back home, consequently freeing her from her domestic imprisonment? Maybe she meant something more spiritual? She hadn't seen her for three years and she was drunk, so who knew what she could have meant.

Luka sighed and laid down on her bed, eyeing the screen. She didn't like texting or calling much. She wondered what she could say. Miku was partying, drunk, with plenty of friends. Slowly, she composed a reply.

_Get home safe._

She was a bit worried, yes. Would she drive, or did they have a designated driver? Would she take the bus? A taxi? Where was her home?

She pressed send and put her phone away to let it charge. Only a minute later, though, it vibrated again. On the screen, she saw Miku's reply: _Home already 3 Free tomorrow?_

Luka's breath caught at the message but forced herself to type back. _After five, yeah._

_Harlequin at 5:30? It's quieter, promise. They serve dinner._

_Sounds good._

_It's a date!_

Luka froze. Midnight came and went, her alarm was set for eight the following morning, but all she could do was stare at her screen.


	3. Escalating

The only thing that really cemented the videos' credibility was Luka's permanent honesty about what she knew and did. Thanks to that, they all believed that she had no idea about the recordings, that what they saw was real, unscripted.

But nobody could agree on what she had wanted. The squabbling continued, and no new day captured on camera changed anybody's opinions. Those who believed that her heart was pure took every new video as proof of her integrity. Those who believed that she had a hidden agenda wouldn't accept what they saw at face value.

Luka quickly thought that it would never end and that her punishment would be to suffer the trial, forever. Soon enough, people got sick of seeing yet another day, another conversation, and it was decided that seeing another dialogue would simply be a waste of time. Luka thought it would finally be the end.

Miku just wanted everybody to see one last thing. The very last piece of evidence that would be truly noteworthy. Luka was relieved, so happy, and she could see that same thought make its way through everybody's minds. Even her parents relaxed. Soon. Soon she'd retire to some prison, enter a new routine, and live out, what, twenty years? in peace and quiet, slowly but surely paying her debt to society.

That relief ended when Luka realized exactly which episode was going to be shown to the world. When she heard Miku say, once again, that she loved her. And when she saw herself react in all her blunt rage against the upset tealette.

Luka couldn't pull her eyes away from the scene. It wasn't like a train wreck that she couldn't ignore, no, she was avoiding everybody else. She didn't want to see her parents, her friends, Miku's family. She couldn't bear what they might be thinking about her.

The recording had something new to say, though. She watched her and Miku fight, argue, and finally, her past self stormed out, hoodie in hand. To her surprise, the upset and emotional Miku almost immediately sobered up, taking only a few deep breaths to calm down. With a steady hand and an even gaze, she walked over to the phone and stopped the recording.

Luka realized that the young woman had planned it. She had faked it all.

She had lied to her.

It was the first and only scene in which one of the two women had obviously set up a situation for the other to walk in. And Miku had set the perfect trap to determine if Luka really was trying to take advantage of the poor little girl who had never met a soul in her life. But the pinkette's direct refusal, the way she stood her ground, answered all of the questions. She was not after getting close to Miku. She wasn't trying to placate her by fulfilling her every wish. She wasn't trying to take advantage of her.

In that moment, Luka's integrity and intentions were made clear.

The jury retired.

* * *

'Date'?

No matter how much she tried, she couldn't find any words to answer her. She put her phone away again, barely registering the time. Her sleep was restless. When her alarm summoned her, she could hardly react properly. During work, she was distracted. When Gakupo and others greeted her, she could string together a sentence, but with difficulty. Afterwards, she had her meeting with Kaito, who asked the same old questions and she had the same old answers. Good life, good job, no drugs, no leaving the city. She told him she had found Miku.

"Alright," he said, nonchalantly.

"Am I allowed to see her?" she asked. "As friends, I mean."

"Of course, why couldn't you? You were on good terms, no? And there are no files here that tell me that she ever asked for you to keep your distance. Is there a problem?"

"I'm afraid that the only reason it took so long for us to reunite is because her parents concealed the fact that I have been released."

Kaito looked concerned. "Oh. We did send them a message reminding them of the date after you made parole." He looked through some files. "Do you know if she lives with her parents?"

"No."

"We only have one address here. It's entirely possible that her parents never told her."

"Is that bad?"

"From a legal point of view, no. We can't control how they work as a family. Miku is an adult and can decide for herself whether or not she would like to speak to you or not. If her parents have a different opinion, that's a matter for them to settle. As for you, feel free to hang out and catch up: there won't be any trouble from us if you do so."

"Ok."

When she left, it was five o'clock, and apparently, she had 'a date' to go to.

A date.

After that day in the trial, she had slowly come to accept that Miku had never really loved her. On one side, it had been a comfort; the tealette's suffering had also been an act. On the other, it was the most brutal way to realize that it was something she had deeply wanted to be true. Somehow, along the way, she had come to fall for the tealette, but she had been so obsessed with getting her safe and sound, she'd never allowed herself to realize. That day, her heart had burst open and had broken everything inside of her. She had needed all three years in prison and the isolation for it to heal, the bloody, ragged wound of comparable size to the other trauma she had to deal with. She doubted that, without the assistance of the therapist, she would have ever gotten over it. Yet, despite the time and help, the memory itself continued to bother her.

Was that fragile, sensitive wound one she would dare to open again? Would she dare get so close to Miku again? Was it something they'd have to lay on the table so that there would be no misunderstanding? She couldn't stop thinking about it during her entire bus trip back to the Harlequin. She arrived without any answer in mind. Miku was already there, stood to welcome her. Luka realized that once again, adrenaline was surging through her veins.

"Hey," the tealette greeted with another effortless hug. When she pulled back, she seemed sheepish. "Sorry for yesterday."

She was a bit tan. She was a bit older. Her eyes had something harder, more defined. But she was Miku.

"Don't worry about it," reassured Luka with a smile. She was still nervous, struggling to find any words to say. "Not too hungover?" she eventually managed.

"Oh, this morning was hell," Miku groaned as they sat down. "And I really wasn't ready for you to see me so tipsy. If I wasn't dying from the headache, I was dying of embarrassment."

"Miku, really, it's no problem. You were having fun, and that was all I'd ever wanted for you." Luka scared herself with her own sincerity.

The tealette smiled. "Alright, I'll do my best to forget how I thoroughly humiliated myself in front of you and your coworkers."

"You really weren't that drunk."

"I'll believe you."

She had already ordered the wine and dinner platter, which, to Luka's surprise, was composed of various meats, cheeses, butters and breads. The wine was good, and the platter seemed quite promising. Quickly, she picked up something to eat so that she wouldn't have to start the conversation.

"You know, I never thought I'd see you out so soon," admitted Miku.

Luka shrugged. "I didn't think I'd be free so soon, either. But I made parole, so here I am."

"How long have you been out?"

"Almost a month now."

Miku grumbled and picked up a piece of bread for herself. "A month. I can't believe my parents lied to me for a month."

Luka didn't want to ask. "I'm sure they had their reasons."

"That's bull. Every day, I'm asking them if anything came in the mail, if there's any news, and every day they lied to me." The information made Luka's chest swell with something she couldn't name. "You know, when my friends spotted you yesterday, they tried to organize my escape, like they were trying to rescue me from you. By the time that I left to see if it really was you, they'd already organized a roman turtle with their bags and stuff."

Luka hid her grin behind her glass. "Don't worry, my coworkers did the same."

"Ha," Miku took a bite out of her bread. "It sucks. No matter how many times you tell the story, nobody ever really gets that we're friends."

"Your parents don't believe you?"

'They believe that you've been good to me," the tealette said between bites. "That you did me a favor by not killing me. But the therapy and stuff didn't help when it came to convincing them that you're a terrific person."

Luka clenched her knife for half a second. She had wished that Miku had left the apartment without any mental baggage, but of course, it was inevitable. As much as they'd helped one another, they probably didn't have the time to tie off all of the loose ends.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh? Oh, it's not your fault," Miku gently insisted. "Besides, you did more good than bad: it's been a year since I've seen my shrink. He expected that I have more trouble sleeping, considering everything that happened, but you dealt with that yourself." Miku finished her piece of bread, picked up a new one. "Still, no matter how many times I say that, my parents just won't accept that we're friends."

"I wasn't sure we still were, myself."

The tealette froze, genuine concern taking over her features. "Oh? How come?"

"I was afraid you'd be mad at me for not keeping in touch. No calls, no visits, no letters,"

Miku smiled, the sight enough to make Luka trail off. "Silly Luka," the tealette jokingly berated her. "Frankly, it would have surprised me if you'd wanted to see another letter in your entire life. And I get that you wanted some alone time, really. After a year of homework and stalking and stuff to do and people to see, what else could you want?"

Luka was surprised by her answer. "But we promised to keep in touch."

"Yeah, that's why I kept asking my parents about you. I was dead set on finding you the moment you stepped one foot out of prison." She took a sip of her wine. "Was someone there to pick you up at least?"

"Yes, Lily was there."

"Thank goodness. I spent last night having nightmares of you being all alone there, waiting for me, for anybody." She sighed. "Anyway, I get it. After all, when the trial was done, the first thing I did was travel with my parents. The complete opposite of what you wanted, the complete opposite of what you did. So, really. I get it."

The pinkette relaxed. "Where did you go?"

Miku's eyes lit up. As they ate, she told of the various places she'd visited with her parents, especially the more important ones: where her parents had met, gotten married. Their favorite locations. Mountains and rivers and forests she'd seen. She told of people she'd met and meals she'd tasted. Everything together sounded like a dream.

By the time she'd finished telling her stories, their dinner was done and their glasses empty. People started filling the tables and the karaoke was turned on.

"Sounds like you guys had an amazing time," Luka said. By then, all of her worries had evaporated and she had nothing on her mind but the present conversation.

"Oh, it was the best. I got closer to my parents, and now they're staying home. So when they travel, we're all traveling together." She stretched in her chair, and then said, "Ok, enough about me. Tell me how your month of freedom has been."

"Hm, there's not much to say. Lily picked me up and stayed over for a couple of weeks before she moved out. She was taking care of my apartment, you see."

"So you still live in the same place?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

"Nice, now I know where to find you," Miku joked. "My turn to sneak in and watch you sleep."

Luka chuckled. "In the meantime, I had to visit my parole officer and find a job. I ended up becoming a ticket checker for the buses."

The tealette laughed. "No way, really?" Luka nodded. "Wow, isn't that the lie you told everybody? That's great, I love it."

The pinkette paused at the word but didn't let it stop her. "I'll admit, it's a funny turn of events. Other than that, there isn't much else to say. I have good coworkers, an awesome boss. For the first time in years, my life is finally going back to normal."

"And what was life like in prison, if you don't mind my asking?"

She didn't mind, and she gladly told of the same cellmate with the card tricks, how she helped in the kitchen, the various projects in the workshop. She admitted that it had been a relief to no longer have to do anything or to talk to anyone. To just take things by the day.

"That actually sounds kind of cozy."

"Don't let it fool you too much. It's still prison in a way."

By then, the Harlequin was really filling up and somebody was always singing. Miku quickly went to the bathroom, which let Luka think about things.

She was convinced that when Miku had said 'a date', it was a joke. Probably one encouraged by her then-drunken state, and for that, she was relieved. The conversation flowed naturally, she felt, and she was no longer nervous about who wanted what and who was angry and why. Both of their lives were going well, both were happy. Neither wanted much more than they already had, apparently.

When Miku returned, she had a question Luka hadn't expected.

"I totally forgot about your parents, actually," Miku said, sounding concerned. "How are things with them?"

"I haven't spoken to them yet, actually."

The tealette seemed crestfallen. "Oh. Have you tried calling them?"

"Haven't had the guts yet. In any case, Lily will vouch for me if anything happens."

"It's good that you have such a loyal friend," Miku said. "If need be, I'll stand with you, too."

Luka was touched. "Thank you." She gathered her thoughts, hoping to find another conversation topic. "You told me you traveled for a year, but what are you doing now?"

"Oh," Miku laughed. "Sorry, silly me. I started studying business management, actually. There's a Bachelor, and then a Masters at the end of it."

The tealette told Luka of her studies, her friends, and Luka was impressed at how well she had managed to find a group of people she was comfortable with, who easily accepted her. Then Miku talked of the wedding of two of her friends, which led to her admit that she'd also dated while Luka was away. The pinkette couldn't help but feel simultaneous relief and envy, which she desperately tried to squash. Luckily, the wound was still closed and it was something she forgot quickly, but for a split-second, dozens of thoughts flew through her head, picking at the scab. How many, she wondered; how far had they gone; how much of her did they see; how well did they get to know her. At that point, the night was getting old and people were leaving again.

"You?" asked Miku while they were still on the topic of relationships. "That Gakupo guy seemed to have eyes just for you."

Luka barely suppressed a groan. "There's nothing there," she quickly said, "At least not from me."

"Shame, he looks like a nice guy."

"He really is," she admitted with some difficulty. "He's unbelievably understanding, too. Before I got my first paycheck, he paid for my lunch, which was more than what I could possibly ask of anyone."

"If he asked, would you give it a try?"

Luka looked at the tealette, then off to the side. "No. I don't think so."

Miku dropped the subject. By then the quiet had started to return to the bar. Both agreed that it was getting late: Miku had classes to study for her bachelor, and Luka had to work again the next day.

When they stepped outside, Miku offered to drop her off, a kind offer Luka accepted. She had a nice car, and she drove in a calm, relaxed manner. Luka tried to remember when she had last been behind the wheel of a car. Sometime before she'd moved out? She might have to learn it all over again if it would be useful.

Miku dropped her off not far from her door, and they agreed to do the same thing again soon.

"Will you be there again, Wednesday?" asked the tealette.

"Most likely."

"I'll be there, too, then. Less to catch up, more just to chat and spend time together."

"Gotcha."

They said goodbyes, then Miku drove off.

Luka didn't know what exactly she felt. Miku was barely any different from the woman she knew. Maybe some little details were new, but otherwise nothing had changed.

She feared her old wound was opening again, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

If someone were to ask if Luka was looking forward to Wednesday, they wouldn't receive a reply. She had no idea if she felt apprehension or anticipation. She enjoyed spending time with her coworkers, even if they sometimes got curious and tactless. Plus, it was entirely possible that she would spend a long time there, so she had every interest in getting closer to them. The real bonus really was that she would get to see Miku again, which made her happy no matter what.

But, while it made her happy, it also caused confusion and pain. Miku was almost exactly who she had remembered her being. She was delightful. She wanted them to become close again, to spend time together, to talk about the world and to sing and to hug. But oh, how it hurt. She thought that prison had helped her get over it, but in the end, the separation had only numbed her. She couldn't forget it, she couldn't abandon the feelings. And even when Miku asked her about seeing Gakupo, she couldn't help but appreciate the gesture, for the tealette obviously cared about her happiness. That alone made her melt and hurt.

Luka didn't want to need someone to make her happy, though, and she didn't want to need Miku's affection to stop feeling bad. She didn't want to need, and it hurt.

The following afternoon, she shared a shift with Gakupo. As usual, conversation with him was pleasant. Quite despite herself, she kept some of that same apprehension in her heart ever since he'd inquired about flirting. But she forced herself to forget and to see him as he was, not as he could be. And he was a perfect gentleman, kind, caring. His smile was warm and his touch rare but comforting. When a passenger gave Luka a tough time because she insisted that her child also needed to pay for his fee since he was obviously no longer a child but a teen, Gakupo stood with her without taking over the situation.

That was probably the most difficult part: he was kind, understanding. She liked the way he worked, the way he did his best to help her out without holding her hand like a paranoid parent. Never did he try to take anything out of her control. Never did he leave her in the dark. She knew that he wouldn't be the kind of person to leave uncomfortable situations as they were, he wasn't the kind of person to refrain from saying something that could be important, that could make someone smile.

If it wasn't for Miku, if it wasn't for that stupid t-shirt, Luka would have liked him. Maybe she already did, but what did it compare to the oozing laceration in her heart?

At the end of the evening, both were back at the office, fines handed in, hours logged. They both clocked out and went outside. The early summer air was warm, so Gakupo carried the vest of his uniform over his arm. They walked up to the stop where Gakupo usually took his bus home and chatted there as they waited. Luka was trying to forget it all, tried to pretend that there was no confusion. She tried to be a good friend to him, as he had been for her. Be present, caring.

Shortly before the bus was due, Gakupo asked, "Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow evening?"

"No, I don't think so," she replied, knowing that she had last seen Kaito just the day before.

"Ah, nice. I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner," he offered, and then, after a brief pause, "For clarity's sake, not just to help you out, like I did for lunch. A date."

Luka gulped. All the mental exercise she had done all day went straight out of the window. She was a bit stunned, to say the least, while Gakupo continued to rant with short sentences, mumbling that he'd pay the check anyway, date or not, and that he understood if she didn't feel like it.

Luka didn't want to need him, she reminded herself. She didn't want to need someone to make her happy. She didn't need him. She could be perfectly happy without him. She could be perfectly alone without him.

"Sure," she blurted, cutting him off.

"Oh?" he grinned, looking genuinely relieved. He had been nervous. "Terrific! Meet here at seven?"

She smiled back, replied, "That's perfect."

"Excellent!" he turned around, seeing that his bus was approaching. "Well, see you tomorrow, Luka!"

He got on the bus and she watched him go, a strange flavor coating her tongue.

She remembered how it had felt, to go back to a normal life. To get a job, no need to hide, no need to hurt or to be hurt. She remembered fearing that meeting Miku again would shatter that. She wondered. Starting a romantic relationship was also a normal thing to do. But she couldn't feel that happiness. Not being in a relationship was perfectly normal, too.

And yet, she wondered.

When she got home, she realized that she had no idea what kind of place he had in mind. Would she have to dress up? Or no? Casual, or fancy? How fancy?

She didn't know how much she wanted to invest in it at all.

The following day passed in something like a haze. She did her job well, nailing every detail between arriving on time to handing in the fines the moment she returned to the office building. Yet she couldn't help but want a message to appear on her phone, she couldn't help but want something else to happen. But did she want to cancel the date?

No.

When she came home that evening, she turned her phone off and looked at herself in the mirror.

She didn't need Miku to be happy. She didn't need Gakupo to be happy. She didn't need either of their love.

Miku wouldn't be there for her like that.

On the contrary, he could be.

It was only fair to give him a fair chance.

She got changed, put on her makeup, her perfume, her smile. Maybe she was finally feeling a little bit excited to be on a date again, for real this time. When was the last time somebody had asked her on a date? Back in high school, probably, back during all of those parties.

Yeah, this felt real. Like a normal life.

This was something she could look forward to.

She looked at her reflection again. No longer angry or confused, she felt happy and pretty. Cream shirt, low collar, short sleeves, simple silver necklace. Jeans that were pale at the seams, off-white belt tied off-center, shirt tucked in. Simple black shoes, mud scraped off at last minute.

She decided she looked fair enough.

Then, in the corner of the reflection, she spied the t-shirt. Miku's old t-shirt. She had put it out of the way after the previous evening, over the back of the chair, a place where she hoped she'd forget it.

She closed her eyes, forced herself to forget it.

Seven o'clock, she was waiting at the bus stop. Twenty seconds later, the bus appeared and he stepped out, and once again, she got to see him without the uniform and in more relaxed clothing. But every detail had been taken care of; polished shoes, smoothed wrinkles, straight collar.

He looked dashing.

"I was thinking of a nice sushi restaurant," he suggested after they exchanged greetings. "Nice, casual, good food."

"Sounds good."

Together they walked to the restaurant. It was cozy. The chef was making sushi right there, on the counter, expertly slicing fish and rolling rice. She immediately relaxed the moment they sat down.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Busy. And yours'?"

"Today was my day off, so I spent all of my hours looking forward to this."

She smiled. The waiter appeared and handed them their menus. Luka quickly decided to go with the chef's menu to avoid the hassle of composing her own dish. Gakupo decided quickly as well, so, within the minute, they got back to conversation.

"I have to admit," he started, suddenly serious. "I was also a bit nervous about all this."

She didn't know if playfully saying that she'd noticed would help: the mood had shifted somewhat.

"Is that so?"

He nodded, saying, "I didn't want you to get the wrong impression of this, or for there to be any questions hanging around in the air. Any suspicions. So it's best to just be clear from the get-go. Luka, I don't care about what you did. Your prison time, the parole thing, I don't care, I won't ask. And should we work out, I'll work with it, no matter how difficult."

She smiled warmly. "Gakupo, I already knew about that."

He seemed startled. "Oh?"

"Yes. After all, you said something similar on my first day at work."

"Ah. Well, I wanted to say this, because my parents don't exactly agree."

"How so?"

He frowned, paused for a second, then continued, "From the news, all they ever gathered was that you're a night stalker, a kidnapper. I gathered that you had reasons. After all, you turned yourself in the moment it was safe. Your heart was obviously in the right place. And after getting to know you, I couldn't just let you go without at least trying. You're—"

The waiter appeared, and quickly they told him their orders. But even after he left, Gakupo didn't finish his sentence. So Luka picked up the string of conversation, hoping to lift the mood again.

"I appreciate the fact that you don't ask, or even care. More than I can say, actually."

"Have people been giving you a hard time, since Wednesday? I'm sorry for our coworkers' behavior, by the way. They ought to know better."

"It's fine, Gakupo. Their questions may be direct, but I don't think they bear any ill will. Otherwise, nobody has given me a hard time. Those who aren't fans of mine tend to ignore me."

"Oh?"

"My parents, mostly."

Gakupo frowned, his expression somewhere between angry and mad. "You mean they haven't tried to contact you at all?"

"Well, my mom visited me, once, before I refused further visits. She basically said that she had screwed up." He cursed under his breath, and Luka realized he was getting sincerely angry. "It is partly my fault, you know," she said. "I— I didn't want to get any mail while I was in jail."

"Any at all?"

"No. I didn’t— I don't think I like letters as much as I used to."

He nodded. "I think you did the right thing."

"Thank you."

Gakupo thought for a second, but before he could speak, the waiter returned with their first course. It looked delicious, and Luka realized that she was ravenous. Quickly, she armed herself with the chopsticks, while Gakupo quickly munched on a piece of ginger.

"You don't feel alone, do you?" he asked before taking his first bite.

"No. Lily has my back. Plus, frankly—" she paused. "You and Meiko are probably the best thing that's happened to me recently. Ever since I met you, I could finally return to normal. No spying, no haunting, no—"

She couldn't finish her sentence, and he smiled fondly from across the table. "I'm glad. I hope that you never have to worry about all of that ever again."

"I hope so, too."

They started eating, and the conversation went from serious to light-hearted. The courses went by, the topics of conversation evolved, and Luka could only appreciate how honest Gakupo was, how much effort he put in to avoid any misunderstanding. By the end of the evening, he'd put his hand on hers, and she liked how safe it made her feel. His touch was gentle, yet it hid so much strength. A protective, supportive force. A friendly giant.

She found herself falling a bit fast. Her heart was fluttering, and happiness filled her 'til it was all she could feel.

They pulled apart in order to savor the last course, a collection of various rolls that displayed the chef's artistic capabilities on top of his culinary skills. Each was different, the tastes exotic, the colors vibrant.

Everything was perfect, and Luka couldn't stop smiling. She couldn't decide if she wanted to finish her meal quickly or savor it. Eventually, she polished her plate, and to her surprise, the very last roll was probably the best one she'd ever tasted.

"What's the matter?" asked Gakupo when she paused to reflect.

"I'm not sure. The last one was incredibly good."

"Which one was it?"

"I'm not sure. It had a certain something."

"Oh, I'm sure we can ask the chef. Like that, you'll know what to ask for next time you're here."

They called over the waiter, and Luka briefly described it.

"Ah yes, that's the chef's favorite, as well," said the waiter when he recognized which one she was talking about. "It's the negitoro roll."

Luka froze as the waiter described that it was a combination of tuna…

…and leek.

Leek.

"Wonderful, thank you," said Gakupo, his smile still kind, and turned to Luka. Either she had frozen wearing a merry expression, or he had failed to notice that her entire mindset had gone through a complete and thorough breakdown. "Now you know what to order next time."

She'd almost forgotten that she wasn't alone. With effort, she barely refrained from barking, "Indeed."

"Is something wrong?"

"I think I'm a bit chilly. It's getting late."

"Ah, it is. Would you like to order dessert?"

"I'm fine."

"Same." With a movement, he asked for the bill.

Somehow, Luka managed to keep up a façade of happiness. Inside, she didn't know what to think. The conversation went on, Gakupo paid, and together they headed out into the cool air. He offered to walk her home, Luka accepted, only to wonder why. They shared the walk in silence, and it was strange to be with him so late, in the dark.

Still, she couldn't keep her mind off of the cameras.

Again, she couldn't forget Miku.

Miku.

They entered the building, and she wondered. She couldn't keep her mind in line. She couldn't tell what she was feeling. Again, lost in her own emotions and desires.

A confident, strong hand on her waist startled her out of her thoughts.

"You ok?" he asked, his other hand gently running up her arm.

Automatically, partly because she told herself she had to, she sank into his embrace. He was gentle, warm. His hands rested on her back, and suddenly, she felt like she was suffocating. He was too tall. Too strong. She did her best to remember his kindness, the amazing evening they had shared, but in that moment, in his arms, all she wanted to do was get away. She hated herself for it.

He leaned forward, and to avoid literally anything that could have been, she buried her face into the crook of his neck. One of his hands went up to caress her neck, and she wondered. She ought to feel safe. Happy. He was kind. He was affectionate. He didn't care about her history and the odds that she would ever meet anybody else as selfless and open were—

He kissed her shoulder.

She flinched.

He noticed.

She hated herself.

"I'm sorry," she breathed into his shirt. "I…"

He hummed, then pulled back slowly. "This isn't for you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm afraid not," she replied, staring at the ground. "I can't."

He smiled, cupping her cheeks so that she would look at him. "It's ok. I get it."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey. I'll still be your friend. There's little worse than being alone," he whispered. "I'm not going to leave you just because of this. No hard feelings, really."

She didn't say anything, and eventually, he stepped back, let her go.

"You'll be ok?"

"Yes."

He smiled again. Luka wanted to be alone. She wanted to be left alone. He said, softly, "I'll see you at work. Don't go avoiding me, alright? If you want, we can talk this out sometime."

"Ok."

"Have a nice evening, Luka," he said, before leaving.

She was left alone in the hall. Suddenly, she felt cold, she felt sick. But she didn't know what she wanted. What to fight for.

She had been looking forward to this so much. Gakupo was perfect. But…

Denial, all of it.

She didn't need anybody to make her happy.

But damn if she had to want somebody, it wasn't Gakupo.

She went upstairs, curled up in bed and turned on her phone. She stared at the screen as it slowly woke up, brand logo spinning and twirling. She entered her PIN with shaking fingers before waiting for the device to get up-to-date.

At first, there was nothing and her heart nearly shattered. But suddenly, a tiny little logo appeared at the top of her screen. One new message.

_Hey, how's it going? :)_

A polite question for a friend you wish to hang out with. Of course, they had agreed to meet up that Wednesday, but of course, Miku would want to chat with her while they waited for the day to come. She remembered how back then, they could speak for hours on end. The frequency of their conversations since she'd gotten out of prison was almost insulting comparing to what it had once been.

Luka sighed happily but still felt alone and heartbroken. The wound bled and hurt. The t-shirt taunted her from the corner of her eye.

_Not so hot, actually._

An honest reply. Miku would expect nothing less. Still shaking, she pressed 'send'. She put her phone down, closed her eyes.

She couldn't date Gakupo. It was unfair to him. She remembered her joy before the date and swallowed with difficulty. Denial, all of it. Emergency denial prepared specially for the date she didn't actually want.

Her phone vibrated. She picked it up, unlocked it.

_Wanna talk about it?_

Somehow, Luka expected this. She pressed the little phone icon at the top of the screen, next to Miku's name.

'Calling'.

She held the phone to her ear. Almost immediately, Miku picked up.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, forgoing any trivialities. Her voice made Luka smile.

"He asked me out," she whispered. "I went on a date with him."

"What happened?" Miku sounded worried. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Luka quickly replied. "But—"

Could she tell her? Tell her that the date didn't go well just because she remembered Miku's existence? Because she realized that going through with being with Gakupo would be the biggest lie of her life, one that went against them both? Because she wanted her, Miku, the girl who lied to her, shattering her heart, for the sake of proving her innocence?

"I got it," Miku said, and Luka realized that she'd been quiet for too long. "You know what? It's summer and I really don't need to study that hard. Want to meet up at the Harlequin?"

Luka's smile grew somewhat. "Sure."

"See you there in a bit!"

"See you."

Miku hung up first. Luka sighed.

Why did she do this to herself? It was one thing to make sure that she didn't start a relationship based on a lie, but it was another, entirely, to prolong her own pain. Why go to Miku for comfort when, in the long run, it wouldn't help at all?

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. No, she knew for a fact that despite the emotions, she and Miku could become friends once again. Eventually, she would truly get over it. She'd already managed to cope with it for three years, so how much longer could it possibly last? Contrary to her relationship with Gakupo, her friendship with Miku wasn't doomed.

She wouldn't ever let it be.

Luka stood and straightened her clothes. She brushed her teeth, combed her hair, then she was out the door again.

Maybe her step was a little bit lighter. Maybe the smile on her lips was a little bit more sincere. Maybe she was a little bit more nervous.

She got on the bus, went all the way to the last stop, walked between the shops and stores and up the escalator and into the dark and noisy space of the Harlequin. Miku was there, they hugged, and they were back in time all over again. Together, they chose a table closer to the stage, where Miku immediately reserved a spot and a song.

"So, what will you be having tonight? And remember: the badness of the date must be proportional to the strength of the drink" asked the tealette with a teasing voice.

Luka rolled her eyes. "I'll just have what you're having."

Miku smiled, went to the bar to order, returned with two glasses filled with a clear liquid.

"Careful, it's sweet," warned the tealette.

The pinkette eyed the drink cautiously. "I thought you didn't like sweet drinks?"

"I don't," Miku admitted with a grin. "But I figured that you'd need it since your date turned sour."

Luka laughed. "Fair enough. Cheers."

"Cheers!"

And oh boy was it sweet; Luka almost recoiled from the strong taste. It was good, though, and she decided to enjoy the drink very, very slowly. Miku didn't show as much moderation, which made Luka tease her about how well acquainted she had gotten with drinks over the past three years.

"I'm not an expert, you know," Miku timidly defended herself. "I just know what my friends order and why. Miki likes sweet and this is what she takes."

"You seem to like it, though."

"I hate it," Miku said with a laugh. "I'm finishing it just so I can get rid of it as quickly as possible."

Miku stuck to her word: the drink was quickly dispatched and replaced with the bitter beer Luka disliked so much. For the following hour, they chatted, while Miku would occasionally go to the microphone to sing some song Luka had never heard of. That lead them to talk about recent music, which Miku had avidly followed while the pinkette was locked away.

"Don't you have radios in jail?"

"Yes, but nobody can agree on what to listen to. Some listen to music, others to political debates, other to history channels and so on, and they're all playing all the time in different parts of the building. Eventually, if you don't want to join any particular group, you just learn to block everything out."

In any case, Luka had to admit that Miku's singing was great; the regulars even seemed to recognize her and request that she sing more often. More than once did she have to tell some person she knew that right then, she was more focused on hanging out, not on singing, and Luka admired her for taking that little hobby so far as to garner a following. And truly, she deserved that following. Luka could barely keep herself from staring, watching with rapt attention how she would move to the rhythm with rare ease, how the words would roll off her tongue. She couldn't even pay attention to the lyrics. Only the beat and melody existed for Luka, each accented by the sway of her hips, the movement of her lips. It was entrancing, so much so, it took a while for Luka to wake up after every single performance, being pulled back to reality by a question.

"You don't want to sing?" was one such question, the intonation of the question mark like the snapping of fingers. The tealette seemed blissfully unaware of her friend's staring.

"Not particularly," confessed the pinkette, still reeling. "I'm fine singing to myself."

"Hm. I'll have to invite you over sometime if you're not going to sing here; I've been dying to sing with you for months."

Luka smiled timidly. They continued to chat, going from topic to topic, talking more about personal experiences than they did before, replacing the politics and world news. The taller woman got to hear of dozens more friends and classes and how the school looked and worked. Joking complaints of the terrible admin, wonderful pranks played on one another. The tealette heard of the adventures of public transportation; complaining mothers and bike fanatics who won't pay for their charges, living or otherwise; unruly kids trying to catch a free ride and lots of tourists. Everything was just as it always had been, except for the drink. When Miku ordered a second mug, Luka raised a brow.

"You seem fond of the stuff," she teased again.

Miku groaned. "I swear, when you saw me drunk, it really was a one-time thing. It barely happens."

Luka chuckled, "I believe you. But you seem pretty eager to embarrass yourself in front of me again."

The tealette blushed and averted her gaze. "Well, euh, it's a ritual I suppose. After a breakup, you meet up with your pals and forget about it together."

"Well, try to keep in mind that I'm on parole, and am not supposed to get drunk."

"Oh, right." Miku laughed nervously. "Sorry. It's just so weird to think that you're free but not really. I'll keep that in mind next time."

Next time. Luka hummed. She wondered.

"So, this ritual, you do this often?"

"Eh, a lot two years ago, in my first year of university. New friends, new relationships, and when they all crash and burn you start getting tired of it. Haven't done this for myself in ages. But for friends, sure. But I'm not the one getting drunk, then."

Luka chuckled, wondering what kind of lifestyle she had avoided by not going to university. "You kids have weird rituals."

Miku shrugged. "Young adult freedom. Can't blame us too much, I guess. You never did this?"

"Hardly."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, I'm not judging you," Luka tried to reassure her with a chuckle. "I appreciate the intention and the company, and that's more than enough."

The night went on, and to Luka's surprise, despite, or maybe because of, their conversation, Miku didn't really slow down. By the time Miku had ordered her third mug, Luka was definitely feeling the slight buzz of the strong, sweet liquor, and liked it more than she wanted to admit. She still felt bad for putting Gakupo through the entire date, and part of her felt bad for wanting more out of the evening than Miku could give, and the buzz helped at dampening those feelings. Miku's splurging didn't encourage her to act moderately, either, so with only slight hesitation, her parole pushed to the back of her mind, she ordered another glass.

"Ah, you're getting another one, too," teased Miku with a slight slur. She wasn't close to the state Luka saw her in, that first evening, but she was getting there.

"Hm. Feel bad for the date."

"What went wrong, though? You didn't talk about it much."

Luka laughed, took a large sip of her drink. "It's so stupid."

"Was it a really bad date or something?"

"No, not even. He was great." Already the second drink was kicking in, and Luka stopped herself from taking another gulp. "We talked and ate and had a wonderful time."

"What went wrong, then?"

The pinkette giggled. "I ate sushi with leek in it and I just couldn't stop thinking about you, instead."

Miku laughed as well, a slight blush covering her features. "Ah, that sucks. So, no more dates with him?"

"Nah."

"Yay! Cheers to celibacy!"

"Cheers!"

They clinked glasses again. Midnight had passed by then, and Miku had sung at least seven songs. Seven wonderful songs, their lyrics long forgotten, their melodies but a distant melody. Luka loved listening to her, loved talking to her, loved being with her, and she was too buzzed to hurt. She felt happy, and it was a gift only Miku could give her.

"Darn, it's getting late," Miku observed, speech still slurred. She was probably pretty tipsy, Luka thought, maybe even more so than when they had reunited. "How're you gettin' home?"

"Bus," Luka said. "Gets me close enough."

"Hmm. I'm taking the taxi."

"Taxi? Little Miku grew up to have expensive taste, hasn't she?" Luka teased.

"Well, I knew I'd drink at least a little!" Miku argued, only half-serious. "So a friend dropped me off. Not— I’m not gonna drive."

"That's very wise," Luka said, sincere.

"Wanna split it?"

"Huh?"

"The cab. It's always cheaper that way."

"Where are you headed?"

Miku roughly described where her house was, the vague gestures and directions enough to let Luka understand that it was in the total opposite direction from her home.

"Eh, it'll still be cheaper," Miku said, but the pinkette wasn't sure it was true. Still, partly because of the buzz, partly because she just wanted to spend more time with the tealette, she agreed before asking the barman if he could call for a taxi. They paid, Miku's bill considerably larger than Luka's despite the fact that her individual drinks were cheaper. Together they stumbled down the escalator.

"It's so stupid that they turn this stupid thing off," mumbled Miku.

"Think you could get down it while it's moving, in your state?" Luka joked.

"Of course not. But then I wouldn't have to do any of the walking myself."

The taxi was already waiting for them. Quickly, they agreed to drop off Luka first; it was the closest to their location.

Luka settled quickly in the comfortable back seat. It wasn't a luxury car, but a nice soft seat was always better than a wooden chair in a bar. The driver left just as she fastened her seat belt. They raced through the dark streets of the city, lights flying on by.

She laughed quietly at the sight. Everything was moving so fast she briefly felt like she was flying. She turned to the tealette, who also seemed comfortable, but too tired to properly buckle herself in. Sluggishly, Luka put her hand on hers, getting the younger woman's attention.

"Thanks for this. Your rituals are probably a bit weird, but they definitely help," she whispered just loud enough for Miku to hear.

"Hey, no problem," the tealette replied, her voice also quiet. "Glad I could be of service."

Luka nodded, feeling light. Miku's hand was warm under hers', her skin was soft. The pinkette's heart beat a little faster, and she wanted to grin.

She loved Miku. So much. There simply was no helping it.

She turned away, pulling her hand back, suddenly embarrassed. She tried to focus on the lights, not on the blooming feeling that was pushing out of the gaping wound she thought had sealed for good.

Miku gently grabbed her elbow. She wants to say something. Maybe about Wednesday. Maybe about today. Luka turned to face her, noticed that she had moved to sit in the middle of the backseat; right next to her.

The next second, the tealette's hands cupped her face, and Miku kissed her.

Instead of a gasp, or any other reaction that could possibly indicate shock, Luka melted into the kiss entirely. Was she too tired for surprise? Too tired of hiding it?

She didn't have time to care about those silly questions.

Miku tasted of the bitter beer, smelled of it too, with a hint of that vanilla, that scent Luka hadn't ever truly forgotten. She was gentle but physical, her hands going from the pinkette's cheeks to her neck and shoulders, cradling and caressing her, leaning against her entirely, almost pushing the older woman against the car door.

Luka loved it. Entirely and blissfully intoxicated by her. Her hands couldn't do anything but pull the younger woman closer, feeling her. She felt her curves, the way she inhaled when she pulled back for a quick breath. She felt her soft hair, the rolling of her muscles as she was pulled closer still. In turn, she deliciously suffered the dance of the tealette's fingers under her ear, down the nape of her neck, that gentle caress over her forehead to push a stray lock of hair away. She savored the warm sigh of happiness that ghosted over her lips as Miku inhaled again, and dove straight back in with a hum that made her spine tingle.

One of the younger woman's hands trailed down, slowly, randomly alternating between grabbing onto Luka like a lifeline, and feeling and kneading her muscle and skin. From shoulder to arm, then barely skirting the side of her breast to further down her side, Miku's hand disappeared under Luka's shirt to explore her lower back, and once there, the gentle but firm grip, her warm palm, the way her thumb pushed against her, how her fingers rubbed her spine, it all made the pinkette gasp. An opening that begged attention which Miku was all too willing to give and the taste and smell of everything multiplied and invaded Luka's senses.

"Alright, here we are!"

Miku pulled away immediately. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Luka thanked and paid the driver, quickly waved goodbye to the tealette, stumbled up to and opened her door, and all but collapsed onto her bed.

She fell asleep almost instantaneously.


	4. Reconnect

The jury took a long time to decide. Those were long days spent pacing, gnawing, wondering.

She didn't know what to feel.

Miku had lied to her.

Was she supposed to feel relieved? That the pain she had caused the tealette by rejecting her so venomously, had never existed? That there would be no more heartbreak for Miku to suffer?

Or maybe she was supposed to be angry. At that point, they had trusted each other. They were close. They were friends. Plus, Miku had taken advantage of the chaotic context to be able to get the brunt of Luka's raw reaction. With all that was going on, the pinkette no longer had the energy or patience to conceal or lie. It was a perfect setup, and she hated it.

Maybe she was supposed to be disappointed.

Worse still, Luka couldn't get the memory of that evening out of her mind. When she had returned home from her walk, when they had talked it out. Miku had seemed so genuinely sad. Her cheeks had been covered in the salt from her dried tears, she remembered that. How the light had reflected off of her skin, the drops in her eyes.

Miku had been heartbroken. But Luka had no idea if it had been an act. She was so convincing during her declaration and her outbursts: Luka had never had any reason to suspect any kind of trickery. Had the scene by the window been filmed, too? Or was that a sincere moment between them?

The videos were done. Those that remained unseen had been determined pointless. If it had been an act, and it had been recorded, then it had nothing more to say than what was already said. And if it had been a moment just for them, Luka could never be certain.

She could be certain about nothing.

Except, maybe, that she was thoroughly heartbroken.

* * *

Luka woke up slowly, her mind buzzing with so many thoughts she couldn't focus on a single one, her heart beating heavily, her body feeling warm.

Briefly, she remembered that she had the morning off. One-thirty, her shift started. One-thirty. One-thirty and she would be dressed, stepping on the bus that led from the heart of the city to the outskirts. One-thirty, with one colleague whose name she didn't know yet, and Gakupo.

Her memories skipped the chapter of her date with him entirely, zipping straight to the evening, going from the dinner platter with the cheeses and meats to the drinks and songs to Miku's voice, her smile, the feeling of her lips against hers.

Luka sat upright with a jolt.

That hadn't been a dream, had it? The memories were far, far too vivid. She remembered all the details; the car door digging into her side, her warmth, the way she held her. She remembered the way she had gasped when Miku's cool fingers found the small of her back, how the tealette had hummed into the kiss.

Another shiver went down her spine. She knew what Miku had done to her, how her heart had been broken, how she made her happy, but this reaction was new, entirely. Ever since she had the time to think things over, since she could afford to think about her own emotions, since she knew that she loved the tealette, she had spent many sleepless nights in prison, forcing herself to keep her hands on top of the covers, refusing to feed her shattered emotions in any way.

She had told herself that Miku didn't love her back, that it was pointless, that it would only bring more pain to even imagine that the young woman would love her back, to conjure up any kind of image of how it could be.

After a few months, it had become second nature. Don't think of Miku. It was easy to fall asleep without thinking of what could have been, if she had reacted differently that night when Miku declared her fictitious love for her, if it wasn't fictitious at all.

She wasn't too surprised that a single kiss had destroyed all of that. Luka sat there, blushing, almost ashamed of her reaction, of how Miku had her feel, of what she made her want.

Even as all of that spun around her head, as she replayed the memory again and again in her mind, she could only wonder one thing.

Why?

She knew why she would have wanted to kiss Miku, and she knew very well why she didn't. She knew that Miku didn't love her. All Luka wanted was for them to be friends again, for everything to be like it had been before. Nothing more, nothing less.

But why would Miku kiss her?

Why?

Luka quickly made her way to the bathroom where she took a long, cold shower. She didn't want to dwell on it. The tealette had been tipsy. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she was just fooling around. Cheers to celibacy, she'd said. Or maybe…

No, she didn't even dare hope.

Luka got dressed, opened all of the curtains and let the blinding morning light enter her apartment. She needed to do something, anything, to get her mind off of the tealette.

It was silly. It was just an accident.

It didn't mean anything.

She dusted every surface in her living space, then vacuumed. When she prepared the laundry, she fiercely threw in Miku's shirt. While the blues washed, she cleaned everything up, hoping to busy herself until noon. Then, she would put on her uniform and go to the office, meet up with Gakupo and go to the bus. Then she'd check tickets all day.

Everything would go back to normal.

Normal.

The screen of her phone lit up. She remembered putting it on silent, at one point. When? She unlocked it, found one new message.

Her heart leaped to her throat. She opened it, and when she saw Gakupo's name, she didn't know whether to feel relief or dread.

_Want to come by an hour early? So that we can chat? I'm buying lunch._

She sighed. He's perfect.

But he's not Miku.

She sent a message of agreement before immediately turning her phone off. She put on her uniform and headed out almost immediately, leaving the wet laundry behind in the machine. Chores wouldn't cut it: she had to socialize. At the office, her colleagues buzzed all over the place, but enough were sitting around taking advantage of a break for Luka to start a few conversations. When Meiko came by to check up on things, they chatted for well over an hour, and much to Luka's relief, her boss didn't know that she'd been on a date with her coworker.

Gakupo inevitably walked in, Meiko taking that as her cue to get back to work.

"Hey," he greeted. "How are you?"

"A bit tired, but fine," Luka lied. "I'm sorry for yesterday."

He shook his head. "No need to apologize. Want to talk about it over lunch?"

She nodded, and they left, heading for a small burger place. Luka wasn't hungry though, so Gakupo ordered extra fries with his meal so that she could snack on them.

She couldn't stop herself from apologizing. The most painful part, to her, was remembering how well the date had gone, how comfortable and she had been right up to that single point. She felt like a trickster, a liar. But Gakupo wasn't looking for excuses or even an explanation. He accepted that she didn't like him and that was enough, much to her relief. She thought he'd insist, maybe a little, but no, and that was just as well. They didn't end up needing to talk about it much: after twenty minutes, they returned to normal conversation, and once again, it was as if everything had gone back to normal.

Only sneaky little memories that slipped past the gates reminded her of that fiery kiss in the backseat of the taxi.

"Hey, I do have one question," Gakupo started at one point, while they were heading to the bus stop. "You mentioned that you hadn't reconnected with your parents."

"Yeah."

"Still nothing?"

"No progress since last night, I'm afraid," she joked.

"Aw. Well, if you ever need help with them, I'll be there. You're a great person, and frankly, they're missing out."

She thanked him, sincerely, once again touched by how kind people were. She remembered that Lily and even Miku had said similar things.

Maybe, she thought to herself as she stepped on the bus, pulling out her booklet, maybe it's about time I called my parents. If anything, it would be a welcome distraction from Miku.

* * *

Late that evening, as Luka was returning home, she nervously gripped her phone, thinking of what she'd decided mere hours prior.

Shortly after starting their shift, she had made the final decision to try to talk to her parents again. Try to explain things, if necessary. She told Gakupo, and he promised that he'd be there if she wanted. She also planned on contacting Lily to let her know what she was planning. To call one afternoon, maybe in the weekend, when her parents wouldn't be too busy. Maybe Lily could be there to announce it to them, to soften the blow.

But to contact Lily, she would need to turn on her phone.

She feared any kind of message from Miku.

Asking for the tealette's help for calling her parents was the absolute last thing on her mind. She feared that she would try to contact her.

Would she apologize?

Try to explain?

Or worst of all, pretend it never happened?

It almost made her feel sick.

Halfway home, she closed her eyes and turned on her phone anyways. It was entirely without motive. The kind of thoughtless motion that was similar to turning off the shower, or getting out of bed on a day without work: not one thing motivates such an action, yet there's a point when one thoughtlessly allows it to happen.

So, Luka turned on her phone. Put in her PIN. Then she buried the device in her pocket, expecting and dreading the war-cry of a handful of messages, maybe a missed call or two. Only after two solid minutes of walking did she remember that she had left her phone on silent.

She would have to look at her screen.

One sigh later, she gathered the courage to do so.

Three messages and two missed calls.

All from Miku.

Luka gulped, put her phone away again. But she changed her mind and opened the messages.

_I can explain!_

_I overslept, I'm sorry for not trying to call earlier._

_Please, I swear I can explain what I did yesterday, please don't hate me._

Luka didn't know what to interpret.

Regret? Fear? Self-disgust?

She put the phone away, wiping away the tears in her eyes. She was almost home, she could keep it together, she told herself. Already, she could see the front door of the building. Just a few more steps.

She wondered why only three messages and two calls. She didn't want to look at the timestamps, she didn't want to know how desperate Miku really was to get a hold of her. She didn't want to know how much she really meant to her.

She pushed open the door bodily, happy to get out of the cool summer evening, away from the eyes of onlookers. To her surprise, almost terror, Miku was waiting there, next to the mailboxes, wearing only a T-shirt, jeans, and the shoes on her feet.

The fear morphed into sadness and regret when she saw that Miku's eyes were red and that it looked like the young woman had been waiting for her for a substantial amount of time: she was asleep.

Luka couldn't stop herself from kneeling in front of the tealette and shaking her awake, her heart riddled with worry and concern.

"Oh Miku, how long have you been waiting here?" she quietly asked when the tealette groggily woke up. Her skin was covered in goosebumps: without a jacket, even the hall was far too cool for comfort.

"A while," admitted Miku. "I— I wanted to talk to you." Luka shook her head and helped her stand. The younger woman wasn't finished, however. "I thought that you might be working. Thought that maybe I ought to let you know that I was here. But—"

Luka shushed her and opened the door with her key, letting them both inside and upstairs. Miku followed without another word until Luka closed her door behind them both, turning on the light in the kitchen.

"I need to explain—"

Luka wasn't having any of it. Feeling concerned, happy and terrified all at once somehow exhibited in a way like anger. "How long have you waited for me?" she asked, her voice more bitter than she'd wanted. Impatiently she pulled at her collar, loosening the buttons: she felt like she was suffocating.

The tealette recoiled slightly at her tone. "A few hours."

"Are you cold?"

Miku seemed surprised. "No, I'm fine."

Luka all but ignored the reply, picking up the hoodie she had been wearing that morning and handing it to the tealette. "Wear this."

Miku laughed timidly, making Luka remember the weight of the gesture. She pushed it to the back of her mind, turned back to the room, wanting to get out of her uniform, out of her own studio.

She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to pretend that everything was ok, that nothing needed explaining, that her heart wasn't shattered into a million pieces—

"Luka, please, I want to talk to you."

She froze.

There was no escaping it, was there?

She sighed.

"Do you want something to drink?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Miku shook her head, so the pinkette gestured to the couch. They sat together, the room relatively dark, illuminated only by the light from the kitchen and the dying evening sun outside. Still, the uniform felt too small, the air too thick, Miku too close.

"You're not looking at me," mumbled the tealette. "Are you angry?"

The answer was surprisingly difficult to find. "No."

Miku waited for more, in vain. "I'm sorry, Luka. Yesterday, I—" she stopped herself, before continuing, "I'm stupid. It's all stupid. I'm sorry."

Luka bit her lip. 'It's fine,' she wanted to say. But it wasn't. She didn't want to lie to her.

"I'll be honest, Luka. Yesterday, I wanted to tell you something, but I just got more and more nervous, and every time I was about to say it I just said something else instead, and I hoped that drinking would make it easier but it really didn't. I just got drunk and stupid. I'm sorry."

Luka stayed silent for a handful of seconds. "Nervous?"

"Well, we'd only seen each other twice since you got arrested, so I kept hesitating, and wondering, and asking myself if the timing was right, if it wouldn't be coming too far out of nowhere." Miku sighed, and Luka noticed that she was wringing her fingers. Had the tealette ever been so anxious? Even freshly strangled, Miku had been more fearless than she was right then.

It was stronger than she could ever hope to be: she put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't want to see her so afraid.

"It's a long story, I guess," mumbled Miku, slightly calmer. Luka could feel how she was shaking ever so slightly.

"Take your time."

Miku looked down at her hands. "Remember what you said to me after I told you that I loved you?"

Luka felt her heart skip a beat. "In part."

"You said that you could have been anybody, and I would have loved you. A young boy, an old lady, whoever, whatever, and I would have loved you." The pinkette nodded in encouragement. "Well, at first I didn't believe you. And that hurt, but you were right."

Luka gulped. "So, what you said—"

"I meant it. I mean—" Miku hesitated. "At the trial, I didn't say that. They only needed to know that you were a good person. And, I'll admit, I had been looking for a way to prove to them that you were. I didn't want you to rot in prison because people got the wrong impression. So, when I fell in love with you, I suppose that inspired a good trap, in a way."

Luka stared at the tealette, wasn't sure if she ought to pull her hand away or not. "I thought you'd lied to me."

Miku nodded. "That's what I wanted to tell you. I saw the way you looked at the footage. I wanted nothing more than to tell you that, in all of those videos, the only point when I lied was when I pretended that it was an act. It wouldn't have helped your case if they knew that I really did love you. But I didn't lie to you. I lied to them."

Luka sighed. "But I could have been anyone."

Miku gulped, hesitated again. She seemed like she wanted to answer her, but instead, she didn't say a word.

The pause made Luka's heart race.

She wasn't saying yes.

The mere implication sent her mind sky-high.

"Not really," she ended up saying, her voice cracking. "At first, yeah. After the trial, I saw the world, its people, and I realized that there was so much more than I could have ever imagined. So I thought to myself that I couldn't have really loved you. There had to be someone out there that was _really_ right for me: not just the person who saved me. I looked forward to being your friend again with no heartache, no pain. I was happy with that plan. But after a few dates, a few short-lived relationships, I realized that while I didn't need you anymore, you—" Miku stopped herself, hesitating. She inhaled deeply, and finally finished her sentence in a single exhale, "You ended up being everything I wanted."

They sat together in silence. Luka couldn't conjure up a single word. She was stunned. She'd let her hand fall from her shoulder at some point.

"God, it was so bad," Miku hissed. "I couldn't even commit to a relationship for more than a few days because it was," she hesitated again, but briefly. "It was so unfair to them. They were all gorgeous and great but none were good enough to make me forget you and be _with_ them. I couldn't hug or kiss them without imagining you, instead. And that wouldn't have happened, if you had been just anyone, would it?" Miku sighed. "So, I forgot about forcing myself to date anybody else. I just wanted to see you again. If I met somebody better, fine, but nobody came by. I asked my parents about you, if they received news, and I think they caught on. As if that wasn't bad enough, I couldn't ever forget the fact that hey, what I feel towards you wouldn't ever mean a thing, would it? Because you're the first person I ever met." she inhaled deeply. "And regardless of all of that, of the others, my parents, my friends or otherwise, I know where you stand on this. I know that you don't like me that way, so I didn't hope for anything. I never did! I just wanted to see you again." Miku sniffled a bit. "But then I saw you, and your coworker who wouldn't get his eyes off you, and being the stupid drunk I was, I told you that it would be a date and I was afraid that I had screwed up but no, you were there and it was great. But then you actually went on a date with him, and I just…" Miku sighed. "I hated it. I drank a lot because it hurts, knowing that I have no chance. I don't drink. I swear. There was that party and that night but that's it. And then you said that it went south because of the leek and I— I was stupid. I'm sorry. I just— I missed you."

Luka was thoroughly gobsmacked.

"Now that that's been said, I’m here to apologize for my behavior," the tealette continued, sitting up, trying to compose herself. "And I hope that what I did won't ruin our friendship. I promise it won't happen again, that I'll get over you eventually. I mean, three years obviously weren't enough, but hey, three years?" Miku laughed humorlessly. "Can't be much longer, right? They say love only lasts three years, don't they?" The tealette looked at her, hopeful, a timid smile on her lips. "So, can we still be friends? I know we've been through this already but— I went way too far this time."

All of the information was sinking in like a rock thrown through a thin sheet of ice. It disturbed everything she'd built over the previous three years, sending bubbles of emotion everywhere, displacing her thoughts. All of the phrases she'd repeated to herself, the wound she'd desperately tried to heal, it all burst open at impact, shattering everything apart, and for the first time since everything had gone back to normal, she actually felt alive.

Miku had actually loved her.

More importantly, she still did.

She could hardly believe it.

She couldn't string together more than two letters in her mind, let alone utter a single one. She wanted to dive in and kiss her, she wanted to hold her and comfort her and tell her that yes, what she felt mattered, that everybody else could go screw themselves. She wanted to protect this, too. She wanted to be careful. Maybe they were both crazy, after all. Maybe this 'love' was just a secondary effect that lingered on longer than the others. Maybe it was all an illusion. Maybe it was all a trap, a trick, a test. It's been three years, after all. Could they still love each other? Maybe they had changed?

"Luka?"

She had spent too much time thinking, but nearly not enough. The pinkette stared at the tealette, her mind in pieces, her heart practically airborne, floating in her chest, bouncing to and fro with every beat.

"I can give you some time to think if you want," the tealette offered as she made to stand, timid and sad. "I get that this is a lot to take in—"

Luka seized her hand, pressing it into the cushion of the couch. Her fingers were still cold.

"Don't go," she whispered. "Just give me a minute."

What did she want? Her. As friends? Lovers? Was the difference between the two too great in the eyes of the world for it to matter? For it to influence her decision?

Luka's expression must have been difficult to decipher because Miku's smile, already frail, quickly faltered, and finally, the pinkette felt she had to speak. Still, the words evaded her and every time she made to speak her lungs had no air left to give. She was left entirely mute.

Despite it all, finally, by some miracle, two words managed to slip out and away. "I'm sorry."

Miku deflated almost entirely. She started to speak, maybe an apology of her own, but Luka forged on. "You've been honest with me, but I've lied to you."

"It's fine—"

"It isn't. It really isn't. I lied to you that day." Luka said. She spoke on the run, pushing the sounds out as she found them, hardly aware of where her sentence was even going. She was shaking, and held on to Miku's hand, hoping to find strength. "I said that I didn't like you."

Despite her statement, the tealette's expression hardly changed. "So, you liked me, then?" she whispered, almost sad.

"Yes! But I was too focused on everything to even notice and I just wanted to see you safe and at home for Christmas and I was going to prison anyway so it would have just ruined everything but now—" she stopped herself, hearing her broken phrase. Desperately, she wanted to make sense, to say something that meant something.

Miku didn't give her the time and sighed. "I'm sorry. My actions must have made you uncomfortable. To remember that—"

"I love you."

The tealette froze, and Luka's mind went blank, for that was the one thing that meant something to her. That made sense.

She loved her.

Saying it felt better than she could have ever imagined. Finally, it all seemed clear to her.

"I realized when you played that recording," she started, her sentence no longer made of straw, but of iron. She was certain of what she wanted to say, of what she needed to convey. "Thinking that you'd tricked me, thinking that it was all a lie, it broke my heart so swiftly the realization made me want to rot in prison forever. And I've spent the last three years trying to get over it, and the last month thinking I've succeeded, only for you to come by and make me fall in love all over again."

It was Miku's turn to be stunned, and Luka's to be timid. She wanted to explain further, but the tealette interrupted her by leaning into her, burying her face between Luka's neck and shoulder, clinging on to her tightly. The pinkette easily returned the hug, an old gesture that returned as naturally as breathing.

"Tell me this is real," Miku whimpered, her hot tears burning on the pinkette's skin. "Please. This isn't a dream, is it?"

Once again, she was surrounded by Miku, and Luka could barely stay level-headed. With such bliss, how could it be anything more than a dream? How could any form of reality create such a feeling?

Despite those thoughts, Luka whispered, "It's real," even though she couldn't believe herself. Before she knew it, the words themselves crystallized into pure joy right in her heart, and she knew that yes, it was real.

Miku sniffed and pulled back. "What is 'this', though? Do you forgive me? Are we—"

The pinkette had no better answer than to kiss her brow, before whispering, "I forgive you, easily."

"What are we now, though?" Miku insisted.

Luka's smile faltered. "You mentioned your parents," she said, hating the way the words tasted. "And the fact that the circumstances of our meeting aren't ideal. People would—"

The tealette shushed her. "No, no. What do you want?" she whispered, her grip tight on Luka's arms.

The pinkette was partly embarrassed to confess what she truly desired, but knew that she could be honest with this woman, knew that they'd never lie to one another again. "You," she whispered.

Without warning, Miku kissed her again, and Luka was once again completely helpless. She melted into the kiss, easily welcoming the contact, easily savoring the warmth, the flavor.

Before she could immerse herself completely, her thoughts returned and she pulled back. Miku looked almost indignant, silently requesting a reason.

"What—" Luka was already breathless. "What about the others?"

"Shh," Miku whispered, putting a finger over Luka's lips. "Remember? This is our game." She kissed her quickly, fast enough to almost make Luka forget what she was talking about. "And this time, screw the referees."

Their lips met again, no simple peck and no drunk assault. Luka had all of a second to think of those referees: Miku's parents, obviously disapproving from the start. Her own, who would probably judge her harshly. Maybe their friends, her colleagues. But the kiss pulled her out of her thoughts with a sweet violence. Without the beer, Luka could confidently say that everything about Miku was absolutely delicious. Add the complete sobriety and shared happiness, and she got the sweetest kiss she could ever dream to share. Eagerly, she pulled the tealette closer, hoping to feel more of her.

It was Miku's turn to pull away first, less brusquely than Luka had done, but still quickly enough for Luka to miss her deeply from the first moment they separated.

After a few shuddering breaths, she mumbled, "I'm still sorry for my behavior."

Luka chuckled, a smile plastered on her face whether she liked it or not. She absorbed every detail possible, hoping to engrave the moment in her memory. "You're forgiven."

Miku nodded slightly. "And I'm sorry for tricking you."

"No need to apologize for that," Luka assured her, drawing small circles on Miku's back. "Without your clever tricks, I would probably still be behind bars right now."

Miku sighed, the warm breath tickling Luka's skin. Then she leaned back, just slightly. "Go out with me?" she mumbled timidly.

The pinkette chuckled. "I thought it was a given at this point."

"Hm. I want to hear you say it," she pouted.

"Then yes, I'll definitely go out with you."

Miku cheered, diving in for another hug which Luka returned gleefully. After a handful of seconds, the tealette admitted, still dizzy with joy, "My parents still don't know that I know that you're free."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They thought I was hanging out with friends lately. If they knew I was with you, they would give me a hard time. And you too, probably."

Luka's smile shrank slightly. "They'll find out eventually."

"Yeah, and it would be best that they learn from me, and not the grapevine." Miku sighed again, pulling away just enough so they could face each other. "My friends probably shouldn't know either. They think you're a menace," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Luka considered the question for a while. "You think it would be best to keep low?"

Miku nodded, leaning forward so that their foreheads touched. Luka couldn't hold back a grin at the action, loving the innocent proximity. "I don't like it, but it would be…"

"Right."

"Hmm. Still going on Wednesday?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Miku smiled. "Me neither. Especially now that I don't have to drink myself into a coma anymore."

"You never had to," Luka teased.

Miku looked away, embarrassed, without moving her head. "Well, last time I told you that I loved you, you gave me the most heartbreaking rejection possible. Even if I did set it up."

Luka caressed her cheek, hoping to coax Miku into looking at her again. It worked, much to her joy. "Hey, you don't have to be afraid to tell me anything. Not anymore."

The tealette nodded slightly, leaning into Luka's hand slightly. "Same goes for you, you know," she said, sticking her tongue out slightly.

"I know, I know. I almost killed you and broke your heart. There's nothing more I can do to hurt you anymore."

Miku laughed, the sound making the happiness in Luka's heart overflow. "But seriously, I don't want us to hide stuff from each other. It would be kind of stupid to start now."

"It would," the pinkette agreed.

"For example," Miku said, barely even a whisper. "I really want to kiss you again."

Luka didn't have to be asked twice and complied immediately, the grin still stuck on her face.

She knew she would get addicted to her. She wanted more, always more, there would never be enough, and yet she was already experiencing pure bliss. It filled her mind and energized her completely. Everything around her was either in razor-sharp detail or so foggy it could just as well be absent. The rest of the world effectively disappeared, leaving her alone with the one person who could make her happier than she'd ever thought possible.

Neither could find a reason or the strength to pull away. Quickly, their embrace got tighter, their kisses more heated, their touches seeking and curious. Miku's hand found her spine again, and the taller woman could only gasp, almost a programmed reaction. She could barely focus enough to be embarrassed about it. The tealette once again seized the occasion, deepening the kiss, pushing a little harder, effectively picking up where they had left off the previous evening. Luka could hardly stand her ground. Fortunately, she couldn't care less. Somehow, in her pleasure-addled state, she found a spot on Miku's side which made her gasp in turn. Instead of retaliating in kind, Luka focused on the tealette's neck, kissing along the artery from under her ear, down to her collarbone, up her throat. She felt Miku's hand at the back of her head, encouraging her to continue. Vaguely, she realized that the tealette had landed on her lap, straddling her: either the younger woman had maneuvered herself there, either Luka had coaxed her, she didn't know, she didn't care. She gripped the tealette's hip, making sure to frequently visit that sweet spot that made her tremble with a sweeping thumb. Finally, she found Miku's lips again, kissing her gently, but she seemed rather breathless.

"You ok?" asked the pinkette, her words almost dissolved in the exhale that created them.

"You drive me absolutely crazy," Miku confessed, looking at her straight in the eye. "Nobody else could do this to me."

Luka grinned, immensely proud, letting her thumb run over that sweet spot one more time, making sure to see Miku's reaction: she inhaled sharply, discreetly, her eyes widening just slightly. "You like that?" she teased, returning to Miku's neck, less passionately but just as happily. Softly, gently, she caressed the skin there with her lips.

"Yeah," Miku confessed. Luka noticed that, while one of the tealette's hands were still holding on to her, the other was traveling to the small of her back. Even though she anticipated it, the touch was electric, and she hummed.

Miku flinched, making Luka pull back with surprise. "What—"

The tealette giggled, covering her neck with her hand. "It just tickled," she said, blushing. "It's fine."

Luka let out a breath of relief, and couldn't help but giggle as well. Just as she was going to speak, Miku put a finger over her lips again, effectively but gently silencing her. "I wish I could do the same to you," the tealette started, leaning forward so that their noses just barely didn't touch. "Except you're still wearing that uniform of yours."

Indeed she was, the collar shielding her neck and throat from any kind of onslaught. "Hm, you might have to wait 'til next time if you want to see me without this on," Luka whispered, leaning forward so that she could sometimes feel Miku's lips against hers' as she spoke. She was barely surprised at how comfortable she already was. How long had she refused to even dream of this?

Miku closed the distance separating them, briefly. "Next time, you're wearing a low-collar shirt, like yesterday." They kissed again, Miku adding afterward, "At most."

"At most? Dear me, it sounds like you're trying to get me out of my clothes after the first date."

Miku grinned, kissed her again. "I might be."

Luka tutted. "Who is this person, so obsessed with drink and sex? What ever happened to the Miku I left behind?" she joked, feeling more than seeing the tealette blush, the warmth of her cheeks turning hot against her lips. Miku grumbled something in reply, but nonetheless pulled the taller woman closer still, maybe hoping to silence her with another kiss. Instead, Luka pulled back, her hands no longer threatening any sensitive spot of any kind. "If I may be serious for just a second," she started, hesitating slightly. "I'd prefer if we take this a little bit slow."

Miku looked like she wanted to joke, but had heard and understood that Luka wasn't kidding. She leaned back as well, without letting her hands part from Luka's frame. "Oh?"

The taller woman wanted to hide in the crook of Miku's neck but merely smiled a timid smile. "I've never been with anyone before, like this, so," she chuckled, a little embarrassed. "I'm a little nervous."

"I thought you had a boyfriend in high school?"

Luka nodded. "I did, but it was meaningless." She paused. "Actually, now that I think about it, we might have broken up because I didn't 'deliver'."

"Oh."

"And even if we had been serious, that was years ago," Luka reminded her.

Miku kissed her forehead. "It's fine. We'll slow it down," she said, like a promise, with a kind grin. "Still, I'm a bit surprised you haven't gone all the way with anyone."

Luka shrugged. "I suppose it never really interested me all that much."

Miku chuckled. "How lucky I was, to have a savior so noble and pure."

Luka rolled her eyes. "In any case, sorry if I'll sometimes seem apprehensive. I can imagine that it might sometimes be a little frustrating."

"It won't be, really," the tealette assured her. "I bet I'll also be a little apprehensive a little further down the road."

Luka remembered what Miku had confessed earlier, finding pure joy and slight fear, knowing that out of all of the younger woman's relationships, none had gone far. She chuckled, whispering "Frankly, part of me was hoping that at least one of us had a clue of what to do."

Miku kissed her again, saying "Trust me, you're doing just fine." Then she leaned in so that she could whisper into Luka's ear. "Remember? You're the only one that does this to me."

The statement was complimented with a gentle touch to her spine, which made Luka shiver slightly. "You drive me crazy."

Suddenly emotional, almost inexplicably so, the pinkette wrapped her arms around the younger woman's waist, pulling her close, burying her face in her shoulder. Miku giggled, running one hand through Luka's ponytail. "I missed you," she stated, quiet.

"Missed you, too," mumbled the pinkette. "More than I can put into words."

Miku opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly a small ring filled the room. Instead of whatever reply she had in store, she cursed. One arm that was wrapped around the pinkette's shoulders left to check a pocket, and Luka felt noticeably chillier. Not only because Miku was no longer holding her, but her attention was suddenly pulled towards her phone, the source of the offending beep.

"Oh shit, it's my parents," hissed Miku. "They're asking where I am."

Ah, that did indeed warrant attention. "You didn't tell them where you were?"

"Obviously, not truthfully," Miku replied with a wink as she typed a response. "I told them I was at Miki's place, to study. She's in a dorm so there's no direct landline, which is the best for a cover story. Anywhere else and my folks would probably call the parents and make sure I'm actually there."

Luka frowned. "It sounds like they're still keeping a close eye on you."

"Old habits die hard," Miku said with a sigh, finishing her reply. She put the phone away. "Thing is, I said I'd be home for dinner, and now's dinner."

"You'd better get going, unfortunately."

Instead of standing, Miku huffed and wrapped her arms around Luka's shoulders again. "I don't wanna go." she pouted. "I want to have dinner here with you, like before."

"Another time," Luka placated her, gently and slowly encouraging her to stand. Even though she despised the fact that the younger woman had to leave, she didn't want either of them to get in trouble with her parents.

The tealette stood, pulling Luka up with her. "When's 'another time'?" she asked innocently.

"Depends. Are you free tomorrow?"

Miku shook her head. "Monday's no good for me. Tuesday?"

"Tuesday's perfect."

By then, they had arrived by the door, but neither wanted the tealette to go.

"When am I welcome here?" she asked.

"Whenever you like: I worked today, so I can pick a day off: I'll be free all day."

"Alright, I'll try to be here as soon as possible!" Miku exclaimed.

Luka grinned. "I'm looking forward to it."

"And here: you already gave me one, and as much as I'd like to start a collection, you'll probably need this," the tealette said as she returned the hoodie.

Luka took her hoodie, then chuckled. "You actually left one of your shirts here," she started. "It's in the laundry right now, so remind me to—"

"I know. Keep it."

The pinkette could only smile. One last hug and another brief kiss, then Miku was out the door, leaving Luka dizzy and beyond happy, clutching the jacket to her chest.

She almost couldn't really believe it. From seeing her again less than a week prior, through days of heartbreak, there she stood, still experiencing all of the emotions and feelings Miku had gifted her.

There was no more heartbreak. The angry red wound she'd suffered and had healed only for it to be torn open once again bloomed onto a gorgeous flower of strong, tender bliss.

Of course, things weren't completely perfect quite yet. Miku's parents seemed to dislike her enough to keep her freedom hidden from their daughter. Plus, her own parents were a subject she still wanted to tackle.

Otherwise, Luka realized that there was nothing else she could truly want. What else could she want that would contribute to her happiness?

Nothing.

She turned back to her room and turned on the light: it had gotten dark enough for the kitchen light to be too weak to illuminate the room properly. She sat on the couch, pulled out her phone, and dreamily texted Lily.

Could she tell her friend? No, probably not. They had agreed to keep low for the time being. For how long? Miku probably wanted to reason with her parents a little more, which Luka thought would be a good idea. Maybe she would even need to meet them properly, and she had to admit that the mere idea terrified her. She'd only seen Miku's mother twice, ever. Her father, the machine he was, never caught Luka off guard. Except through the windows, and the one time she'd followed him, she probably hadn't seen him. In fact, she couldn't picture either of their faces. She'd seen arms, a back, a headful of hair but their faces? No, while she hid, nobody ever faced her directly.

She shivered, focusing on her text to Lily. She'd planned to talk to her parents the following afternoon if only to get it over with as quickly as possible. Gakupo would be working, and Miku was busy, but maybe, just maybe Lily would be with her, at the opposite end of the line. She giggled, remembering that she'd planned it all to distract her from Miku. But right then, the memories and happiness that the tealette had left her were a distraction of their own.

Her friend didn't take a long time to reply, confirming that she would be with her parents the following afternoon, visiting with her own family.

Luka gulped, remembering that Lily's parents had all but shunned her. Maybe that would influence the call? Despite that, they agreed on a time and continued to text while Luka cooked, ate, and read until she fell asleep.

A text message from Miku awaited her when she woke up nice and early for work that day.

_I told my parents I'd seen you last Wednesday and that we were hanging out yesterday. They're not happy but the fact that I caught them lying to me made it easier to convince them to give you a chance._

Luka smiled.

_Frankly, I'm surprised they withstood your debating powers for so long. What argument won them over?_

_You were right: get emotions involved and rational arguments fall apart. :( But the phrase 'Luka never lied to me about anything' hit home nice and neat._

The pinkette almost flinched. For only a second, she wanted to debate that she _had_ lied to her about her emotions, that evening three years ago. Miku probably thought it didn't count at all, though, since Luka wasn't aware of the truth herself. So instead, she wrote back only one word.

_Ouch._

_That's the point._

Luka frowned. Miku was obviously dead-set on making sure things would go well, but she wondered if her methods weren't a bit too direct. She couldn't blame her too much: if she'd spent nineteen years locked up, she'd probably bite back every now and then, too. Not to mention that they still monitored where she went, even though she had sailed past her teens into her early twenties.

Luka briefly wondered if her intervention of sorts in their familial situation had done more bad than good. Of course, they had traveled together, spent time as a real family, and now they stayed at home more often, but was their relationship strained? Was their behavior something Miku often threw in their faces in order to get something she wanted?

No, Miku wasn't like that. She was straightforward, but if she had conceded to telling her parents about her whereabouts, then they had apparently come to a peaceful compromise. In any case, she wanted to hope she'd fixed something, more than damaging it. But she had to accept the fact that even if she had been more of a benefactor despite herself, she shouldn't expect to be forgiven for having them return home to an empty house, their daughter missing, presumed dead. No, they had every right to be angry at her for what she'd done to them. For four months, a third of a year, their daughter was gone.

Luka didn't let the thoughts distract her too much. She exchanged a few more messages with the tealette, went to work where she chatted with Meiko and Gakupo before her shift, and after work, she visited Kaito, which was no different from the usual.

In the late afternoon, she was back home, out of her uniform and into the hoodie she had lent Miku the previous evening. It brought her comfort as she exchanged messages with Lily.

_When you want to call?_

_Whenever._

_Want me to let them know in advance?_

_Sure._

The blonde stopped answering briefly, and Luka could perfectly picture the dining table, her parents seated at one end, next to Lily's parents, the blonde explaining the situation to them: Luka can't visit, wants to call, wants to make things right.

She vividly remembered that room, that table, the feel of the carpet under her bare feet. The nostalgia hit her a bit hard, even though she was just remembering the place. She envied her friend slightly, that she could visit so easily, be in the house she grew up in, whenever.

The incoming text rose her from her thoughts.

_Alrighty, call when you want._

Luka took the landline: the phone was more comfortable to hold, which would be perfect for a long, strained conversation. Slowly, she dialed the number, pressed the green phone icon.

She thought of how Miku fought to fix things, let it encourage her, inspire her. Then she just thought of her, let the memories make her smile. She remembered her dining room, the Christmas dinners.

She pictured bringing Miku with her there, one Christmas evening. Maybe her parents, too, so that the Hatsunes, the Masudas, and the Megurines could celebrate it all together.

Then her mother picked up.


	5. Restore

Her sentence was insultingly lenient, especially given the fact that Luka never wanted to see the light of day again. She didn't want to see her parents, her friends, or Miku.

Miku.

She was sentenced for all of the crimes she had committed up to the attempted manslaughter: trespassing, conspiracy, assault, etc. She had done all of that under relatively low stress, and with great care. She had no excuse for carefully organizing a break-in and maintaining an espionage post. Plus, it had gone on for far too long, easily passing the six month's limit to renege on a forced deal.

When she had attacked Miku was considered a breaking point of sorts. She had been too scared, and at that point too unstable, or something, to be blamed. Of course, she needed to take the minimum sentence for almost taking a life, crime caused by emotion or not. But from that point on, her actions were practically forgiven: after seeing Miku alive, she had done all in her power to fix it all. All of her decisions and actions were deemed reasonable enough, given the context. After all, the force they had been hiding from was a powerful one indeed, and everybody knew that by then.

Twelve years.

Luka did the math: she would be thirty-four when she would get out, and she could only think that it would be too soon. She didn't want to see Miku again. She didn't want to see anybody again.

After the sentencing, she was sent to jail. She was given a nice cell with an energetic cellmate. There was a library, an on-site therapist, a workshop. She was allowed to write. Her clothes were clean, the meals were reasonable. She could even help in the kitchen if she wanted to.

Quickly, her bitterness towards the tealette dissipated. She'd lied, but for her benefit. Even heartbroken beyond repair, she could only face the fact that Miku had acted in her favor, that without her, her sentence would be worse.

It still hurt.

When she was told how her friends and family could reach her, she flat-out denied any incoming mail. Just send it all back with a note, she said. She didn't ever want to see another letter. In fact, she didn't want to see anybody: she could foresee the confused friends and relatives, the question 'why would you do this' repeated over and over. She didn't want to hear from the outside world.

Quiet.

Only her mother really insisted. Half-heartedly, Luka had agreed to see her, so that they could talk through a pane of glass for a few minutes. But she left her standing there after mere seconds: all her mother had to say was "I really shouldn't have stopped you from singing."

She wanted quiet. She needed quiet.

* * *

All things considered, the call had gone reasonably well. After Lily had put the phone on speaker mode, Luka could hear everybody's questions and everybody could hear her answers. They asked about prison, about being on parole. They asked about how she was adjusting to society, her job, her friends, and colleagues. They asked about Kaito, Meiko, Gakupo, Victor, Al. They asked about what she was having for dinner, how well she ate, how often.

Not once did they even hint towards Miku's mere existence.

The second call, days later, Luka was with Gakupo: she'd invited him over for dinner in an entirely platonic and friendly way to thank him for all the help he'd given her. With him present, and his straightforward, no-nonsense, talk-about-what-needs-to-be-talked-about way of dealing with problems, the Miku subject was brought up fairly quickly.

Something Luka had both hoped for but wasn't entirely prepared for.

Making her friends and family understand that she was on peaceful terms with the tealette was difficult. Her and Lily's parents asked how in the name of all things holy she could possibly see the pinkette in a bright light. Luka tried to explain, but wasn't sure she was convincing. 'We ended up becoming friends' wasn't a good enough answer, because, in their eyes, a kidnapper would be someone to hate for all eternity. How could she properly make them understand that Miku had spent her entire life isolated, that maybe an evidently harmless kidnapper was exactly what she needed?

But without Miku there, her words fell flat. The call ended on a somewhat confused and unfinished note.

Her friendship with the tealette was, by then, no mystery to her friend and coworker: Gakupo had been there that Wednesday and everybody had had the occasion to chat with the tealette, who had come alone. Nobody knew of their relationship, though. Playing the role of friends was an easy one, luckily, but sometimes Luka burned with a desire to just kiss her, hold her, yell to the world that she loved her, that she was beautiful and wonderful and her favorite person in the entire world.

The third time she called her parents, both Gakupo and Miku were there. The two seemed to get along nicely, though Miku often privately admitted that she was still a bit jealous of him for being able to snag the first date with her. In any case, her presence made the convincing that their relationship was a good one an easy task: Miku was as swift and clever as she'd always been. Not long into the call was she merrily chatting with Luka's parents, discussing her studies, what she and Luka did when they were 'hanging out' (omitting the fact and details pertaining to the fact that they were actually dates), no longer needing to explain the psychology of their friendship. Even Lily's parents had been swayed, for the most part. Luka could only watch as her friends took over the conversation for her.

Numerous other calls ensued, and it wasn't long until Luka no longer needed the support of her friends. She spoke with her parents, her uncles and aunts, cousins, hoping to mend all the ties in her family. Frequently, one would say that they looked forward to discussing various details that Christmas, during the dinner, and she'd have to remind them, regretfully, that she simply couldn't come. Ah, oops, a shame, sorry we mentioned it.

Despite the occasional faux pas — and a few painful questions — it didn't take long at all for Luka to confidently say that she had fixed things. The tall wall that had been built between her and her family had effectively been conquered. No longer did she worry about her thoughts, wonder if she would ever be welcome home. And no longer did she worry about having friends who would stand by her no matter what. No longer did she worry about having a job, having money. No longer did she worry about being alone, being sad or happy.

Everything was finally fixed.

* * *

Luka awoke easily. Drawn curtains effortlessly kept the sun out, turning the harsh light into a soft glow that illuminated the room without blinding. The colors of the room did the rest: blues, whites, sometimes a dash of red or pink. Familiar colors. They reminded Luka of Miku's room, back in the day. It was hardly strange; the same rug with a near-invisible ink stain lay on the floor; the same books sat in the bookcase; the same computer sat, shut, on the desk; a familiar pair of sneakers, worn to shreds, rested in their corner, away from all of the other shoes. The same girl was in the bed.

Enough had changed, though, so that Luka didn't need to remember the terrible, long nights with anxiety. The legion of makeup had all but disappeared. The room was smaller, cozier. Two windowed doors lead to a rich and gorgeous garden. She was no longer sitting next to the bed, and instead—

She slowly turned to face the tealette. She was fast asleep, covers pulled up to her chin. Luka barely dared touch her, fearing she would wake her up. Instead, she gazed upon her with a happy smile, unable and unwilling to stop the memories from coming back to her.

Summer had ended, and autumn took its place with cold winds and short days. The return of Miku's classes neared, the crowds of tourists thinned. As the weeks rolled by, her meetings with Kaito remained regular but less frequent, her relationship with her parents less strained, her colleagues became closer friends, the evenings at the Harlequin ever the more legendary.

Her dates with Miku hardly felt like anything new at all: they would spend time together, talk, joke, share. At home and eventually at the Harlequin, they would sing and dance. Evenings, they would cook and eat, afternoons they would visit and explore the city. For Luka, at first, the fear that they were indeed crazy and that their love was but a grand and sick illusion had persisted, but with every day she spent with the tealette, the more she fell and she could hardly believe it. Even the new things about Miku were dear to her, the biggest changes were welcome. Seeing the tealette transition from a shut-in despite herself to a wonderfully social butterfly, watching her talk about her friends, and classes, her dreams and aspirations, they all made Miku feel more real and wonderful than she had ever been. She was no longer her parents' protégé; she was her own person and Luka loved every part of her. Sometimes, she could barely believe that the feelings were returned, but Miku never let her doubt it for a second. Their entire relationship, as slow as it progressed and as surreal as it sometimes felt, became more and more solid and real with every minute. It was such a shame, Luka thought sometimes, that they couldn't speak of it. Not yet, anyway.

That didn't stop the tealette from trying to get her parents and Luka to meet and come to friendly terms with one another. So, shortly before her classes resumed, she invited Luka over for tea; nothing formal and tiring like dinner, something she could easily walk away from if need be. The Hatsune's new home surprised the pinkette somewhat: they had gone from a four-story block to a small, snug, one-floor building. Their living space had gone from necessities only to genuinely cozy and welcoming, their garden delighted of generous care, various knick-knacks from various travels and numerous family pictures, all new, decorated almost every corner of the house. It was a happy place.

Her parents hadn't been as happy to see her, though.

Introductions had been tough and somewhat forced, but Luka had been willing to go through with it. Luckily, it appeared that both sides had been willing to play their part and do what was needed to improve the situation. Miku's parents avoided baiting the pinkette, and Luka had done her best to avoid making the fact that she already knew much about them obvious. Miku was happy with the entire exchange, and from then on, her parents were less difficult about their daughter meeting up with the ex-convict. Miku could be honest with them about her whereabouts, and Luka gained, to a certain degree, their trust.

However, they still didn't know the truth.

That would probably break everything, wouldn't it?

Luka sighed, keeping noise and movement at a minimum so that she wouldn't disturb Miku's rest. She was probably tired: ever since her classes had started again, they had seen each other less and less, and when they could meet up, the tealette was inevitably exhausted or distracted. She studied and worked very hard, barely giving herself enough time to rest and have fun. When she did have free time, Luka had to accept that sometimes, the tealette wanted to spend that time alone or with other friends. Seeing her the previous evening at the Harlequin had been a true delight, for she hadn't expected her to come at all. Plus, Lily had come to visit, so it was also a bit awkward. The blonde had just been introduced to all of the pinkette's coworkers and was just about to start a fierce competition with Meiko when Miku walked in, alone and for once, energetic.

Luka chuckled, remembering the happiness that had filled her when the tealette had walked through the door. Almost two weeks, they hadn't seen each other, and there she was, almost like magic. Oh, it had taken all of her effort and energy not to kiss her right there. Instead, she began the introductions all over again. Miku, Lily. Lily, Miku. The two chatted briefly before the secret couple took to the karaoke stand to see who could best sing a cover of the latest hit. It was at some point during that evening, when the crowds were getting a little rowdy and the drinks started pouring freely, that Luka realized that they would finally spend the night together. Maybe it was one of those smoldering looks cast in her direction, quickly, while nobody was looking. Maybe it was the craving, the fire that starting burning inside of her. Maybe it was just some timer that had finally reached zero, maybe the planets had all lined up.

When the party truly escalated, instead of being in the middle of it and singing their hearts out, they escaped instead, sneaking to a taxi that they had secretly called. It was so spontaneous, Luka almost forgot that Lily was staying over at her place. Just as she wondered how to solve the issue, Miku hotly whispered in her ear that her parents wouldn't be home until the following afternoon.

Luka quickly sent a text to her blonde friend that the spare key to her apartment was hiding on top of the door frame. After that, her best friend was entirely forgotten. When Miku pulled her out of the taxi, forgoing the front door and instead leading her to the doors that lead straight to her bedroom, Luka barely registered the garden, the fact that Miku had the key ready, that the curtains were already drawn. She forgot all about the same old furniture and books, all about that rug and all about the parents.

She was pretty sure she had even forgotten her own name, at a given point.

Luka blushed at the memories, letting herself sink into the pillow, pulling the blankets up to cover her shoulders. The air was chilly. She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay with Miku for the rest of the day, to hold her, kiss her. She'd missed her.

She remembered the fact that the tealette had midterms to study for. That her parents would be home in the afternoon. She slowly, oh so slowly turned over again to look at the alarm clock.

It was almost noon.

Luka sighed again. She didn't know when exactly the Hatsunes would be home, but 'afternoon' was, by definition, any time past twelve. So, theoretically, they could be home literally any minute.

She internally debated with herself, quickly coming to a conclusion. Without casting one more look to the tealette, she crept out of bed, her skin immediately covering in goosebumps from the cool air. She knew that a single gaze in Miku's direction would make her stay longer, maybe for too long. She didn't want them to get in trouble. She didn't want to cause any trouble. Leaving was the best decision.

As she looked for her stuff, she wondered if she ought to leave a note for her girlfriend for when she would wake up. She immediately pulled on what she found, ignoring the unpleasant feel of worn clothes, thinking if she ought to wish her luck with her studies or to thank her. For? She huffed, silently walking around, looking for her shirt.

"Morning."

Luka almost jumped. "Oh, good morning, love," she replied, timidly covering herself with her arms.

"You're leaving?" Miku asked in barely more than a sigh: she was evidently still tired, refusing to do much more than lift her head.

The pinkette nodded, still looking around for her shirt. "I wanted to be gone before your parents came home."

The younger woman grumbled something, finally stretching one arm out from under the covers. "Come here."

Luka obliged, not expecting the tealette to put her fingers through one of the belt loops in her jeans, pulling her closer so that she would sit right next to her.

"You don't have to leave," she whispered. Luka couldn't tell if Miku was admiring her so openly because she was too tired for self-restraint, or she simply didn't care. She felt a faint blush creep up her cheeks, which only darkened when Miku let go of her jeans to gently caress her exposed waist, her hand warm.

"I don't want to cause trouble," she managed to respond.

Miku didn't reply at first, her eyes just slowly going up from Luka's waist to her face, taking her time to admire every detail on the way. When they finally made eye contact, she just said, "You should wear this more often."

"These jeans?"

"No. Just jeans." Miku grinned. "It's hot." As if to emphasize her point, she ran her fingers over the waistband, barely dipping underneath.

Luka smiled before gently reminding her, "Your parents are coming home soon."

The younger woman sighed again. "They might. They might not. I'm not sure when, exactly."

"All the more reason to go now," she stated, sadly.

Miku just shook her head. "Stay. Just a little longer." Once again, she took her belt loop hostage, gently tugging at it. "I want to hold you again."

Luka put her hand on the tealette's. "What if they catch us?"

"Then they catch us," she replied matter-of-factly. "They may get mad and they may want to kick you out. But this is my room and you're my girlfriend, and I want you to stay."

The pinkette's smile faltered. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Miku shot back with a tired grin. "I'm an adult and they don't control me anymore. They'll have to learn that eventually."

"You don't think they'd prefer learning it the easy way? Catching us like this would be extreme."

"The easy way just might not cut it." Miku admitted. Strangely, even though the tone of her voice was a bit sad, her features were happy, a bit sleepy, and peaceful. What truly reached Luka were her eyes: that loving expression that never let her go.

For once, Miku's arguments were all for naught: it was purely the way she looked at her that won her over. That affection and tenderness promised that no matter the confrontation that may follow, it would be worth it.

Luka gave in like snow to the sun. She merely had to lie down, and Miku made room for her. Her head hadn't touched the pillow for a second before the tealette wrapped her in the covers and her arms, and Luka melted all over again, safe from the cool air, safe with Miku.

"This is better," the tealette mumbled, letting her lips move against Luka's collarbone.

The pinkette felt as boneless as jelly, letting herself be held, loosely returning the embrace. "It is."

They savored the silence together for a long time. Luka thought that she might have fallen back asleep once or twice, waking only when Miku would snuggle a bit closer. She couldn't really decide which she liked better: sleeping with Miku in her arms or being awake to savor it.

Maybe she still had to get used to the fact that Miku wasn't wearing anything, and maybe the fact that she was wearing her day-old clothes made an asymmetry she wasn't completely comfortable with. Luka sometimes wondered if she ought to strip again but each time, she came to the conclusion that the hassle wasn't worth it.

"Hm. You ok?" asked the tealette, startling the older woman.

"Of course I am, love," she replied.

"You're a bit fidgety."

"Oh. It's nothing. I just feel a bit overdressed," she confessed with a chuckle.

Miku half-laughed, half-sighed in relief. "Ah. I thought you were thinking about last night."

"I was thinking of that earlier," she whispered. "It was amazing."

The tealette relaxed somewhat, and Luka realized she'd barely noticed how tense she really was. Before she could speak, the younger woman said, "Good. I was a bit worried."

"About what?" the pinkette asked, concerned.

Miku pouted slightly, still a bit tired. "It's not hard to guess," she mumbled, a faint blush covering her features.

Luka smiled, kissed the top of the tealette's head. "There's nothing to be worried about," she whispered reassuringly, rubbing small circles on her back. "You were wonderful, love."

The tealette didn't reply for a while, before grumbling "Good."

Luka chuckled. "Good?"

"I was just hoping that you liked it as much as I did. But…"

"But?"

Miku mumbled something too quickly for Luka to understand. The pinkette giggled and teasingly asked her to repeat herself. She found Miku to be particularly cute, right then, to be so shy despite the way she had looked at her, mere minutes prior. Finally, the tealette said, just loud enough, "You were a bit quiet."

Luka couldn't stop herself from laughing, briefly, engulfing the tealette in a hug. "Don't worry, I promise I was quite enjoying myself, even if I wasn't particularly…" she searched for the word, before finishing with a teasing grin, "…vocal."

Miku blushed again, hiding in the crook of Luka's neck. "Oh shut up. I was just a little worried."

"There's no need, love. None at all," the pinkette assured her. "If it's any comfort, I look forward to next time."

The younger woman grumbled a bit but returned the hug gladly. Then, she said, "I look forward to it, too."

Luka chuckled once more, wondering why they hadn't taken the plunge earlier. While she had admitted at the beginning of their relationship that she would be apprehensive, it was entirely possible that Miku was shy as well, despite her display of confidence. And then it might simply have been a question of time and timing. With Miku's classes, Luka's job, there was seldom an evening that found them both free. The previous night was the first occasion in a long time, and despite it being their very first opening, they went for it. Sure, Luka wasn't technically entirely 'free': she was at the Harlequin with her friends, and Lily was her guest.

Oh dear, she'd left Lily alone at the Harlequin. Luka wondered if maybe, she would have to apologize for leaving her. Luka tried to remind herself that Lily was in a city she was familiar with: living in Luka's home for her for three years had probably taught her enough about the city to know how to get home without much effort. Still, she had left her best friend because her girlfriend was just too much to resist. A valid enough reason in her opinion, of course, but Lily could feel differently. After all, at the bare minimum, she was still a guest.

She wondered if her friend had tried to text her. Where was her phone? In her purse, where she'd left it, most likely. Where was her purse? Probably on the floor? Was it worth looking for? Leaving Miku for a potential text? No, she would talk to Lily later, when she would inevitably leave Miku's home. She couldn't forget that she had to work that evening, too. She sighed, sad that there was still so much to do out there. It would be so much easier if there was nothing else, nobody else, and all she had to do was cuddle with Miku all day.

"You've got your serious thinking face on," mumbled the tealette.

"You're right."

"What are you thinking about?"

"I left Lily behind at the Harlequin."

The younger woman giggled, her shyness all but evaporated. "Should I claim responsibility and apologize?"

"That probably won't be necessary," Luka replied with a smile.

"Well, I am sorry. I didn't know that she would be there, though. Hell, I wasn't sure you would be."

"But you came alone," Luka remembered with some surprise. Then again, she hadn't told her that she was going there that Wednesday. She thought the tealette would be studying.

"Yeah. I figured that if you weren't there, I could kill an hour or two singing. A nice calm evening. But because you were there, I got to whisk you away, instead."

"Much to Lily's likely dismay," the pinkette said with a grin.

"It was nice to meet Lily in person, even if we couldn't talk so much," Miku said. "She's not much different from what I imagined."

"Hmm."

"You ought to meet my friends. It's about time you do."

"But I'm a menace," Luka joked.

"Of the worst kind," Miku retaliated, and the pinkette could feel her smile against her skin. "But still. I think we're done with the charade. I don't care for it anymore."

"I could tell," the pinkette whispered. "I didn't think you'd be so nonchalant about your parents finding us like this if you were still adamant about us being a secret."

"Yeah. It's just," Miku pulled back slightly so that they could talk properly. "I've been thinking about this. I don't want us to hide, and I don't want us to have to hide. It's stupid."

"Stupid?" Luka wasn't surprised by her point of view, but by the choice of word.

"At the time it seemed like a good idea," Miku stated. "But we only hid because people had different expectations than us. If we reveal that we've been hiding then they'll think we're ashamed, or hiding something worse, but our only reason was them in the first place! We never should have kept a lid on it. We even said 'screw the referees', didn't we? Why did we choose to hide in the end? It's stupid."

Luka thought for a second. "I disagree."

"Oh?"

The pinkette took a moment to collect her words. "That evening you came over, I was planning to start reuniting with my parents. I'll be honest: I had decided to finally do it because I needed something to distract myself from, well, you. And the situation, as it was, was perfect. I'm employed, I have friends. It was perfect to reconcile with my parents. My life, I thought, was perfect. There was, in a way, no 'wrong' or 'bad' thing that remained in my life for them to judge. Everything was ideal to show them that I'm capable of getting back on my feet, that I'm stronger than what happened to me."

"And me?"

"You weren't any of the 'wrong' or 'bad'. I was ready to tell them that I was on good terms with you, in fact. But our relationship would have been," she took a moment to find the right words. "…too much, in a way. It's one thing to tell your parents that you're getting your life back in order. It's another to say that you're already in a relationship. We said 'screw the referees' for when we would be open about it, I suppose. But being open about it wasn't a good idea at the time."

"If you had started dating Gakupo, would you have told them?"

"No."

Miku considered the point for a minute. "What about telling your coworkers? Your friends?"

"I suppose it's the same for them. I'm fresh out of prison, unlike you. The last my friends knew of me, was that suddenly, I was a criminal. How could they be sure that, out of prison, I'm the person they knew before it all went downhill? And my coworkers, who had never met me before? Your friends think I'm a bad guy, remember?" Miku nodded. "Well, it's a good idea to just keep things simple for a while. Relationships have a tendency to make things complex, especially when others start thinking about them."

The tealette sighed and sank back into the embrace. "Same goes for my parents, too, I suppose."

Luka nodded. "Being introduced as someone who's living like a normal person is different than…" she trailed off, uncertain how to finish the sentence, but Miku understood.

"It still sucks, because, despite that, they'll read into it."

"They will," the pinkette agreed. "But that won't change anything about us. Remember? Screw the referees."

Miku giggled, hugging Luka even tighter. "Yeah, screw'em."

"So, who do you plan on telling, and how?"

Miku shrugged slightly. "Everybody. Naturally, I suppose. Next person who asks me out, or next person who wonders how my love life is going, I'll just tell them. You?"

"I haven't given it much thought yet," the taller woman admitted. "Probably Lily. I'll have to bring it up, though: she doesn't ask much at all about that."

"Not Gakupo?"

Luka chuckled. "You have something against him, I'm guessing?" she teased. "You really want him to know?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll tell him when the time comes. But I think I'd rather keep 'us' outside of my professional setting as much as possible. Nobody else talks about their private lives much."

"I get that."

"What about your parents?"

"I'm quite content staying here until they find us," Miku said with a grin. Luka gently pinched her arm, wordlessly telling her that she, personally, would rather not. "Then we can get showered and dressed, and when they come home we tell them. Or later."

"That sounds like a plan."

Miku nodded. "And you?"

"I think I'll wait just a little bit longer. Things are better with them, but still rocky."

"Ok. You're hoping that they'll invite you to the Christmas dinner in five years?"

"Some of my relatives already have for this year."

"But you're on parole."

"Exactly. They apologized, but the reminder always stings a little bit."

Miku huffed. "We can celebrate Christmas together this year if you want."

"Really?"

"Sure. We've spent enough Christmases with the same people. We're adults, we can celebrate on our own."

"We can," Luka agreed.

"How did you celebrate in prison?"

"There wasn't really a celebration, per se. The mood was lighter for some people, darker for others. Some small groups organized secret Santa's. A bunch of people wrote letters and received some."

"What about you?"

"The kitchen let me cook something for myself," she said with a sad sigh. "I tried to replicate a miniature version of a pie my dad bakes every year."

"Aw. You must have really missed them."

"Yeah. I didn't want to see anybody, or get mail, but in a way, I missed them a bunch," Luka admitted. "Even if we celebrate just the two of us, I'll still miss them."

"I understand," Miku said with a gentle hug. "We'll make the best of it, though! Every year until your parole is over."

"I look forward to it," she whispered, kissing the top of Miku's head. The tealette giggled, hugged her tighter.

They savored the silence again, but Luka was finally awake. Instead of half-heartedly slumbering, she thought of how she would tell Gakupo, if telling Meiko would be a good idea, what Lily would think of it.

Thinking of Lily reminded her that she had practically abandoned her at the Harlequin the previous evening, a text being her only warning. Hell, if Lily had read it right after she'd received it, the blonde probably already knew what was going on. She probably didn't have to tell her anything at all. She wondered how she would explain when she would return home.

"I'm going to take a shower," Miku said, stretching. "My parents might actually be home soon. The more awake I am, the less I actually want them to find you like this."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I'm their daughter and you're the bad guy. If anyone will get yelled at, it will definitely be you and I won't be having that."

"Very well," Luka conceded, touched by the thought.

Miku stuck to her word and got out of bed, visibly shivering at the cool air. Luka hesitated between admiring her in return and letting her walk to the bathroom unobserved. She couldn't help herself, though, her eyes almost magnetically attracted to her spine, her slim waist, her—

"You're staring."

Luka blushed and pretended to focus on some spot on the ceiling, but couldn't stop herself from smiling. When Miku closed the door to the bathroom, Luka stood as well and continued the hunt for her shirt. She found it quickly, as well as her jacket, much to her relief. Then, she retrieved her purse, from which she fished her phone.

As she had expected, Lily had sent her a few messages.

_Why'd you go? Why do I need to know where your key is?_

Literally two minutes later:

_Hot damn. How long has this been going on?_

A few hours after that:

_I made it home, no worries. But I demand an explanation when you get back! ;)_

Luka quickly made the bed and sat down on it, typing her reply.

_I'll be home soon. Sorry for leaving you._

She sent it then put her phone away, resorting to waiting for Miku to come out of the bathroom. She wondered if she ought to shower, too, but with her day-old clothes, it probably didn't make much sense. Then again…

As if on cue, Miku opened the door, wrapped in a towel, drying her hair. "You can go now if you want," she said.

Luka accepted her invitation, but found the old clothes even worse when she put them back on for the second time. She was probably going to shower again before putting on her uniform.

Miku was all dressed when she was done, and together they went downstairs for a very, very late breakfast. While they were eating, Miku's parents did come home. Miku played it off pretty well, but Luka was partially petrified. The Hatsunes were polite and didn't seem too surprised to see her there, letting them finish their 'lunch' in peace. After their meal, Luka left, not without sneaking in a farewell kiss. They had agreed to start telling people, but telling the parents right then and there was definitely not the time or place.

Lily, of course, demanded all of the details. Luka handed over the basics: when it had started, how they confessed to one another, even their first, drunk, kiss. When she was done, Lily warned that Gakupo and a few other colleagues had caught on as well. After all, Luka's absence was quickly noticed, and after Miku's disappearance was also observed, the connection wasn't difficult to make. But Lily said that they probably didn't think it was what it really was.

"They probably just assume you guys wanted to chat alone some more."

"You didn't, though."

"Of course not: I knew you weren't coming home."

Lily didn't ask too much, luckily, and let Luka go to work (after another shower, as predicted) without pushing too far. As the blonde had guessed, her coworkers had mostly innocent assumptions about her quick departure with Miku. They probably thought that their relationship was too unlikely, which suited Luka just fine. If Meiko knew, she didn't say anything, but Luka didn't chalk it up to ignorance. The brunette, if she knew, was probably going to keep the subject for the next Wednesday, when she wasn't actively their boss. If she didn't, or wasn't certain, she would certainly ask then, too. Gakupo, however, wasn't so easily fooled, for he knew how close the two were, and the idea that they could actually be dating wasn't so far out of left field for him.

As always, he showed his unwavering support.

It didn't take long for Miku to invite her to join the group of friends for lunch one day. Luka was introduced to Miki, Rin, Len, Gumi and several others, all bright, young adults studying a wide variety of subjects. Some knew each other because they stayed in the same dorm, or studied the same class, or simply knew each other for a long time. Either it was the remains of believing that she was a menace, as Miku had put it, or the fact that the tealette hadn't wasted a second to introduce her as her girlfriend, but they were a little bit difficult to approach at first. With time, though, things did get better, and by the end of the lunch break, things were easier.

From that point on, the two of them didn't go out of their way to hide any longer, for the most part. Of course, they acted much the same when they were together as before, because on one hand, the difference between how they were together while just friends, and while dating, was a slim one at most, and on the other, there was sheer force of habit. Getting used to holding hands and closer proximity while outside took a few tries. Talking about one another as 'girlfriends' and not just friends was accomplished after a stutter.

Luka did continue hiding a little bit. Her workplace wasn't a concern: the topic of who she was seeing wasn't ever brought up. Her parents were the real issue. The first call, she didn't even talk about Miku. The second, she did, but never explicitly mentioned the nature of their relationship. Lily, after she had returned home, didn't bring it up before she did, which Luka was more than thankful for. But she couldn't keep hiding forever, and inevitably she had to let the cat out of the bag.

The reactions were mixed. Some relatives, where the bridges hadn't completely been rebuilt, let her go again. Others kept contact, some probably because of sheer curiosity of how that could possibly occur. Her parents, who were those most important to her, took it well enough, luckily. They had actually spoken to the tealette over the phone and liked her enough, so that the idea wasn't totally foreign to them. She wasn't just 'the girl Luka kidnapped', she was 'that bright young woman studying business management, with a cheery disposition and a talent of making Luka laugh'. Lily probably helped with the damage control, but at the end of it all, it went well enough.

Luka was happy.

Last of all to learn were Miku's parents, and the pinkette had to give them credit: they took it very well, considering who she was to them. Luka was visiting for tea, once again, probably the third or fourth time, and at that point, the conversation hardly ever was difficult any longer.

Until Miku told them, while affectionately holding her hand. While Miku's father slowly put his teacup back on its little plate, and her mother almost choked on a biscuit, Luka could only smile at the words their daughter had said.

"I love her."

The following interrogation was awkward at best, because of course, the afternoon they came home to Luka eating lunch with their daughter was brought up. Miku defended herself fiercely, so in the end, they accepted their relationship, if begrudgingly so. Luka wasn't looking forward to their next conversation, but Miku was positively beaming.

By then, winter had definitely settled in, with its snow, cold, and Christmas decorations. Miku had decided that she would be in charge of organizing 'their' Christmas, and declared with pride that she'd managed to get her home to be completely empty for the holiday. Her parents had family abroad they could celebrate with, she explained, and it had to be at her place because they had already decorated a gorgeous tree. Plus, there was a fireplace, perfect for cuddling with a warm cup of cocoa.

Luka admitted that she was looking forward to it quite a bit. While she was working, she was on a near-constant lookout for gifts she could give her girlfriend. Her income was substantial enough that she could treat Miku with plenty of things, but she didn't want to spend recklessly on random knickknacks. She often browsed in antique shops, in bookstores, in malls. She looked at books on business, nice pocket agendas, necklaces and bracelets. No matter how much she looked, though, she found nothing that would make a good gift. It would be the first Christmas they would spend together, and she wanted it to be special, skipping the easy consumables such as chocolates or candles. But as Christmas approached, she feared she would need to resort to buying a last-minute, rushed present.

Maybe she could make one, she thought at a given point, but knew that her DIY skills were lacking. She asked for advice from Lily, Gakupo, even Meiko at a given point (who was, by then, completely aware of their relationship) but none had the answers she needed. She turned the question around in her mind: what could she get for Miku? What did she want? What did she need? What had she expressed desire for?

That was probably what made it so difficult: the tealette rarely expressed want for something. She almost never stopped in front of a store and said 'Oh, this is cute'. When she ever did, she would immediately follow the phrase with something that would dismiss the possibility entirely: I already have it, I don't need it, it wouldn't suit me. She had ended up being someone who was entirely happy with her possessions and her life, a person wanting next to nothing.

So Luka was left to surprise her.

She found her answer almost by miracle. With Gakupo, she was moving from one bus line to another, a connection among thousands they'd never had to make before. Luka was as familiar with the areas as she was with the rest of the city, so like second nature, she took the shortcut she knew was there since she had moved in her apartment. Between the stops was a long row of buildings, and the quickest way to get from one side to the other was through a large mall that sat in the middle of it. Doors gave to both streets on either side, so almost without warning Gakupo on time, she went inside, knowing that the shortcut would push their ten-minute walk to four. By the time her friend had caught up with her, by then understanding why she'd gone inside in the first place, Luka had seen it.

A pair of shoes.

Miku didn't tend to have things in excess if they hadn't existed to cure her boredom at some point. Books, music and technology, she had plenty. But she only had a few pairs of shoes. She had shoes she wore to class, professional-looking slip-ons, she had a pair of sandals for the hot days, boots for rainy days, and heavier boots for the cold and snow.

She didn't have sneakers. She only possessed one pair, worn out from years of use. Miku had dreamily told her that those shoes had followed her everywhere, that first year of travel after her freedom. They had seen all of the countries, all of the landscapes a planet could harbor. Those shoes had seen beaches and jungle floors. Her second year at university, she'd put them on and promptly kicked a sole out. Ever since, they sat in the corner of her room, never out of sight, never forgotten, but unable to be worn ever again. Miku had then gotten used to multiple pairs, one for each setting and condition.

That single encounter in the mall had spurred a frantic search. The size of the sneakers was no secret to the pinkette: that quick peek before she sent them hurling into the river had branded it in her memory. But the specific color, that was the challenge.

As fashion changed, the colors in demand changed, too. Stores didn't tend to stock teal and purple shoes any longer, and when they did, there was too much of one color, of another color, or not enough. When she had exhausted all of her local choices, she took to the internet, found a site which offered high-quality, custom shoes.

It was perfect.

Luka was almost embarrassed with how much time she'd spent perfecting the design. She didn't want them to look like the shoes she'd purchased for Miku, no. She wanted them to look exactly like the ones she's sacrificed. Her only references were her memory of a dark, fuzzy night, but she did her best. Nothing but her best.

It was perfect.

When she was done, it was mere days before Christmas. Express delivery promised to get the shoes at her doorstep on time, so she gladly forked over the money needed. The day before, she came home to a paper from the mailman saying that he had tried to deliver a package. Without even changing, she headed straight to the post office and claimed the shoes.

They were perfect.

Once they were wrapped, though, an entirely different question came to the forefront of her mind: _What am I going to wear?_

Miku wouldn't mind much whatever she would end up choosing, she remembered with a smile. As long as it didn't include a collar, of course. So she dressed warmly, maybe with a little bit of festivity in mind, maybe making herself just a little bit prettier than normal for the special occasion. Something shiny here, a touch of makeup there, a nice warm scarf and some gloves. That Christmas evening, she stepped outside into the winter cold with a present hanging from her arm, her heart bounding with happiness.

The trip to Miku's home was, by then, more than a familiar one. Despite knowing it by heart, the bus went a little too slowly, the traffic was just a little too much, the snow just a little too slippery, and Luka kept feeling a little bit more impatient with every minute that passed. To pass the time, she eyed the text messages they had exchanged up to that point. Miku had promised to prepare a nice, festive dinner, which had required the entire day to cook. It was sweet, but Luka didn't understand why she hadn't been allowed to help, forcing her to wait the whole day to come over, forcing her to sacrifice a few hours with her. Obviously, she had considered coming early to surprise her, but the tealette had insisted multiple times that she wanted it all to be perfect. She wanted her first Christmas outside of prison to be the best one, ever.

How could she refuse?

The bus stopped and Luka almost slipped stepping outside. She was too excited, looking forward to everything to a childish degree. Her first free Christmas in three years. As she approached the doorstep, she checked the time on her phone, mumbled a bit when she noticed that the bus had made her arrive late. Just five minutes, but five minutes more than she had intended. By then, evening had settled, the sun set, and all of the decorations and lights were shining brightly. Even though Miku was the only one home, all of the lights were on.

She rang the doorbell. Could she just walk in? Yes. Did she want to? Probably. But she'd never done it before. Or maybe she wanted to see Miku when the door opened, the feeling akin to the curtains opening to a grand show.

The door opened, but Miku wasn't on the other side of the door. Instead, there, in that same dress she wore at every Christmas dinner, that same pearl necklace around her neck, stood her mother.

Before she could even speak, stunned through and through, Luka was pulled into a hug. She couldn't even see past her, her vision going blurry. Only the light from the inside reached her, blinding her from seeing anything at all, blurry or not.

It took a second for it to sink in, just one second, before the pinkette dissolved and returned the hug with all the strength she could muster.

"I've missed you, darling," she heard, whispered in her ear.

Then she was pulled inside, her mother smiling from ear to ear, and Luka was certain that they were both crying. She opened her mouth to ask, but another familiar voice called to her.

She looked up, and saw her father. At his side, a few uncles and aunts, cousins and in-laws: the relatives who hadn't shunned her. The Masuda family was there, too, Lily grinning like a madwoman. To her surprise, the Hatsune parents were present as well, towards the back, but also smiling warmly. In the middle of them all stood Miku, as proud as she'd ever seen her.

"Wh—"

"I thought it was appropriate: you managed to get me home for Christmas, after all," Miku started, cutting her off. "I wanted to do the same for you, but since you're chained here," —she gestured to the room filled with all the people she'd ever known and loved, all the people for which she'd sacrificed so much and struggled so hard— "I thought I'd bring 'home' here!"

It took every ounce of her willpower to not collapse into tears right there, so she couldn't find a single word to say. Instead, the emotions leaked out of her, bubbling up faster than she could build the wall to contain them. Her mother hugged her again, and all she could do was let the wall crumble.

Her father joined the hug, as well as the rest of the family, the Masudas, Lily yelling 'I bet you weren't expecting that!' as she dove into the pile. The Hatsunes were more reserved, simply going into the dining room, but Luka didn't mind, couldn't blame them. How could she even mind them, how did she even notice, when the entirety of the situation swallowed her up and threatened to suffocate her in the best way?

The hug eventually dissipated and various members approached her to talk. Her father told her she was looking great, so much better, healthier, happier than way back when they had last seen one another, for her birthday. Various uncles and aunts wished to hear more of how she was doing, cousins went directly to the subject of her past, her time in prison. But in the rush of conversation, all she could do was exchange quick sentences, promises for further conversation later, when she could, for everyone was speaking at the same time. After thanking Lily's father for coming, promising that she would do her best to explain further and him saying that it was no longer necessary, he followed everybody else into the dining room, leaving only Miku with her in the hall.

The tealette was beaming.

"I have no words," Luka tried to say, her words choked by the surprise, the sadness, the sheer happiness. The present that hung from her arm felt so far away, all of a sudden.

"Maybe a few kisses, then?" the younger woman quietly teased.

As always, the pinkette didn't need a second invitation and enveloped her in the most emotionally saturated hug she had ever given. Miku laughed, proud and deserving to be so.

"I love you," Luka whispered.

"I love you, too," Miku whispered back. "More than anything."

The taller woman nodded, and quickly, for their families were just in the other room, she kissed her. She wasn't hiding, no: she was just making sure that the moment was theirs' alone.

They stood there for a minute, maybe two, before Miku wiped away the pinkette's tears.

"Come on, we all prepared dinner!" Miku said quietly, the pure joy almost contagiously evident in her voice, except Luka wasn't sure it was possible to be happier.

She could only nod. What words could she find, when she was still drowning in emotions? Miku pulled her towards the dining room, and there on the table she found plenty dishes, old and new. The familiar pie from her father and her mother's turkey occupied the center of the table, alongside a huge pot of soup. Various side dishes of all kinds accompanied the mains, vegetables and sauces and pies of all kinds, and on the counter in the kitchen, waiting for dessert, sat a few cakes, surely made by the Masudas.

They sat down. Drinks were poured, portions served. The soup was a creation of Miku's mother, Luka quickly learned. In fact, every single thing present was contributed by someone there. Even with all the people, the sheer abundance of food was almost daunting. Luka was almost embarrassed that everybody had to prepare so much so far from home, but everybody was smiling, pleasant, and was having fun. Her parents and Miku's parents were already in deep conversation, Lily speaking enthusiastically with various cousins. One of her uncles had already asked Miku a question, effectively getting her attention. Even when the tealette's mother started a somewhat awkward conversation with her in respect to their families' mutual adoration for the holiday, Luka couldn't be more thankful.

The number of guests ended up justifying the amount of food: there was almost nothing left by the time they were all done. Even the cakes completely disappeared. Everybody took their glasses and moved to the living room, where, as Miku had promised, stood the magnificent tree. There wasn't nearly enough place to sit for everyone, but the atmosphere was lively and joyous, people were moving around all the time, conversations starting and ending every minute. Seats were exchanged effortlessly. Luka chatted with everyone, telling brief anecdotes from her adventures in the Hatsune's home, or her tricks from back when she followed people. Despite the festive evening, when Miku's father approached, Luka couldn't help but be nervous. Instead of a confrontation or an interrogation, he merely said 'Thank you.' Crowning the entire event was a picture, 'cheese' filling the entire home in the most joyful tone.

When finally the energy started to diminish, some excused themselves to catch a train. The youngest cousins started dozing off, so their parents left to get them to bed. Miku's parents left discreetly but politely, wordlessly telling Luka that by the time the last guest would be gone, the house would be all for her and her girlfriend. The last guest happened to be Lily, who had decided to stay around the city yet again for a few days, for once not as a guest of Luka's.

"Merry Christmas," wished the blonde as they hugged their goodbyes.

"You too, Lily," replied Luka, her voice once again choked by the emotions, the departures and 'thank you's reminding her of what exactly had happened. "Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world!"

Luka was about to reply, but spied Miku bringing a pile of plates from the table to the kitchen, humming a happy tune. Instead of asking her when they would see one another again, she leaned in and quietly asked 'How long has she been planning this?'

"Eh, ask her if you really want to know," Lily said with a grin. "From this point on, this evening is just for you two. I'm out."

Luka nodded, and with a promise to meet up again soon, Lily was effectively out the door. The pinkette turned to help Miku in the kitchen, finding that everything had been put in the sink to soak. She rolled up her sleeves to start the dishes, but Miku stopped her, hugging her from behind.

"No dishes tonight," whispered the tealette.

"But—"

"No dishes. I'll put whatever fits in the dishwasher and the rest will wait its turn."

Luka sighed, gave in, let her hands rest on Miku's which we wrapped around her waist. "Ok."

"This is your party. No cleanup duty for you," the younger woman gently chastised, pressing her cheek against the pinkette's shoulder. "Go wait in the living room, I'll be right there."

Luka nodded and obeyed, letting the tealette put away the dishes.

The living room was suddenly very empty. Every glass and napkin had already been picked up, leaving the room, with all of the extra chairs and holiday decorations, feeling quite empty.

Luka sat on the couch, then laid down with a happy sigh. She ran various conversations she'd had in her head. Sharing details of her life with her mother was one that brought most happiness to her: she could see that she was genuinely happy to hear that everything was indeed perfect. To tell her that she was employed and in a happy relationship over the phone was one thing. Telling her in person that she sings sometimes, that she has close friends and can live independently without a single desire for anything else in the world was another entirely.

Luka cast a glance in the direction of the kitchen, hearing the tealette put things away. She was touched that she would do such a thing for her. She didn't mind that the newest additions to her life, Gakupo, Meiko, and other coworkers, weren't there: the fact that they probably had their own celebrations aside, she needed this reunion, this reconciliation with her past. She absolutely couldn't complain about a single thing. The entire party, every tiny detail about it, was the best gift she had ever received.

Gift.

With a start, she remembered the bag she had left by the door. The bag with the shoe box.

Quietly, quickly, she went to retrieve it, but found that Miku had returned to the living room before her.

"Where did you go?" asked the tealette, probably wary about Luka trying to help with the cleanup despite her orders.

The pinkette held up the box, presenting it to her, let the action be the answer to the question. Then, suddenly embarrassed by the scope of the gift compared to what the younger woman had prepared for her, she said, "This is for you."

Miku smiled. "You didn't have to."

"I absolutely did," the pinkette retorted with a grin. "This is our first Christmas. How could I not try to give you something?"

"Oh, fine." The tone of her voice didn't match her voice; with a giddy, childish grin, Miku accepted the gift after having them sit together on the couch. "Hm." She eyed the box, concealed under a nice layer of wrapping paper, gauging weight and having its contents go through a gentle shake-test. Luka rolled her eyes, knowing the tealette was stretching it to tease her.

"Just open it already," she whispered, getting jumpy from the anticipation.

Miku didn't say a word and slowly peeled off every piece of tape, removing the wrapping without tearing it. When she recognized the iconic lid and cardboard of a shoe box, maybe even the brand, her smile fell slightly, her movement coming to a halt. "Wh—"

"Open it," Luka urged.

In a rush, she pulled the lid from the box. There were the shoes, perfectly wrapped, still stuffed with a wad of paper so that they kept their shape. New, teal and purple, with a hint of black. Black soles.

The pinkette waited for a reaction, not wanting to bait one out of her.

"Where did you find these?" whispered the tealette as she carefully, oh so carefully pulled them from the box, removing the wads of paper.

"I couldn't," Luka admitted. "I had to design them."

"They're—" Miku pulled at the laces, her hands shaking slightly. Then, without visible cause, she froze. "Did I ever tell you when I got the shoes you threw in the river?"

Luka shook her head.

"I only ever had bland, boring shoes. I wanted real shoes, for outside. I thought if I got them, I would get to go outside, too. These were in a sports magazine and…" the tealette finished pulling the knot out of the laces with sudden fury. "They were the most beautiful shoes I'd ever seen. I got them for Christmas." She held the new pair in her lap, staring at them, their box forgotten on the floor. The laces swayed slightly in her shaky grip. Finally, she whispered, "I only ever got to wear them once, in the end. The moment I pulled them from the box, that very moment, my dad forbade me from wearing them. Inside, streaks. Outside, mud. I never—"

The pinkette's heart sank. "I'm so sorry."

"I ended up hating them. I thought that they would save me. But no. Instead, they just became this thing I had to look at every day, reminding me of what I wanted, reminding me of what I'd never have. Every day, I heard those words he said: you can't wear them. Ever. I wouldn't ever run on the grass, cross a street, dance at a party. And they mocked me. They mocked the prison I was in, they mocked my life. Even when I tossed them into the back of my closet, they laughed at me from the dark. I hated them. With every fiber of my being, I hated them!" Miku inhaled shakily before continuing, quietly, "Then, out of the blue, you appeared, and you tossed them straight into the river. I knew then. Right then, that you'd come to save me. That you—"

She trailed off, staring at the footwear. Before Luka could find a word to say, an apology, an explanation that she'd misinterpreted, Miku leaned against her, the grip around the shoes suddenly gentle. Luka put an arm around her shoulders.

"I can return them, if you want," she ended up saying.

"Absolutely out of the question," Miku replied with a laugh. "I'm going to wear these suckers out within the month."

The pinkette smiled, unable to stop herself. "Here I was, thinking that I had broken your heart by throwing your brand-new shoes away."

"You threw my old life away."

Luka chuckled, not entirely convinced. "Are you sure? If they only remind you of back then, then I can—"

"I'm going to kick those memories in the ass. I'll make these shoes remind me, for the rest of my life, that I'm never going to be caged again." Miku pulled back to give Luka a deep, long kiss. When they parted, she whispered, "And it's all thanks to you." The pinkette smiled timidly, which only encouraged her girlfriend to kiss her again. "Thank you," Miku finally said. "For the beautiful shoes I've always wanted to have, and the life that goes with them."

"You're welcome," she mumbled. "And thanks for the amazing party. For everything."

"It was my pleasure," Miku replied with a wink. She turned back to the shoes, only to lace them back up. "I'll put these away for now: I'll start streaking the floor tar-black tomorrow."

Luka laughed. "I won't stop you."

Miku nodded, placed the shoes in their box, put them on the ground. Then, she turned towards her girlfriend, a smug grin dominating her features.

"In the meantime, I plan on cuddling you to death!" she announced before wrapping her arms around Luka's waist.

The pinkette let the younger girl do as she pleased, returning the hug with a content murmur. Within a minute they were curled up together in the couch. At first, only the ticking of the kitchen clock and the hum of the washing machine filled the silence, but after a handful of seconds, Luka heard the calm of Miku's breathing. She felt how her chest rose in tandem with hers, she saw how her features relaxed, a small smile returning to her lips.

For half a second, Luka was sent four years back, back when she sat in front of the tortured, sleeping tealette, back in the dark, back when they were alone. Back when only the rattle and hiss of the fridge would cover her sounds, back when the hollow was her only refuge, back when a sleeping girl was her only company.

Miku said something.

"Huh?"

Miku smirked. "You had your thinking face on."

Luka nodded, simply closing her eyes and burrowing her face in Miku's teal locks. "It was nothing. You asked a question?"

"I asked, where do you think you'll be, in five years?"

The pinkette hummed, trying to focus both on formulating an answer and the warmth of Miku's presence. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. Five years is a while."

"Hm. In five years, parole will be over."

"What do you think you'll do, when you're no longer on parole?"

"Nothing much," she ended up saying. "I have a job, a place to stay. My family and I are on speaking terms, and I have a wonderful girlfriend right here. I don't plan on changing anything."

"Hm."

Luka raised a brow, unable of stopping a grin: she could see the faint pout hiding behind the happy mask. "What, did I forget something?"

"Five years is a long time," Miku re-iterated.

"Where do you think you'll be in five years?" the pinkette returned.

"Well on my way to getting a Masters, hopefully," she replied quickly.

The pinkette grinned. "What inspired your sudden question?" she asked. She knew that the tealette hoped to lead the conversation someplace, but she couldn't pin down where, and Miku was being playfully sneaky about it.

"I just realized that, five years ago, I never would have been able to imagine this," the younger woman answered, punctuating the last word with a hug. "I never would have dared to think that I would get a higher education, have friends, or would even get out in the first place. Not to mention having you save me, having anybody cast a single glance in my direction. And now I'm here, with you, and I don't think I could be happier."

Luka chuckled. She wouldn't have imagined anything similar, either. She might have suspected that following people would have brought her to interesting places, but never to that couch, in that living room, with Miku in her arms.

"So, I was wondering, what will be new in five years? What other great things can happen?"

"That's entirely up to you to decide," the pinkette said with a smile. "Your Masters, for example."

"Right, right."

Yet, she still wore that thoughtful, slightly childish expression.

"But you're talking about completely unexpected things."

"Not specifically."

Luka hummed. "You have something in mind."

"I do."

"May I ask what?"

"Well, it's entirely possible I get my name changed."

"Oh?" the pinkette chuckled. "I wasn't expecting that. You want to change your name?"

"Maybe."

"Don't like the one you have?" she asked, somewhat cautiously. The shoes were at the forefront of her mind: maybe the name she grew up with was too attached to a life of imprisonment, but she could be mistaken.

"Oh, I do. But maybe there's something better."

"Any ideas?"

"Megurine."

Luka did a double-take, before bursting into a fit of giggles. "I'll admit, I didn't see that coming," she said, kissing Miku's temple. "I see you're planning far ahead."

"Well, it's possible," the tealette mumbled shyly. "And I prefer that thought over us breaking up."

"I do, too."

Miku grinned and hugged Luka a little tighter. "I really love you," she whispered, only for the pinkette to hear.

"Love you, too," Luka replied.

They shared the silence for a little while longer. The washing machine had finally finished its job, leaving the two alone with their breathing, and the ticking of the clock.

"If we're still together in five years, when my parole is over," started the pinkette, "Would you like—"

"Yes."

Luka chuckled. "I can't wait."

"Neither can I."

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If you have any comments or feedback, I'd love to hear them. Next, I may be crossposting a few one-shots. If you want to read more of my work, the complete list is on my Fanfiction page!


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